Fandom Wars
by Hobbit-eyes
Summary: The Narrative Existence Research Department, NERD, review is approaching, and competition is fierce. As the conflict grows deeper, it seems that the various Fanverses will resort to any means to destroy each others' chances...
1. Chapter 1

_To celebrate the end of my exams, I start an entirely new fanfiction… Enjoy._

**Chapter 1 – Sith Happens**

Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, wasn't having a good day.

First of all, he had got out of the wrong side of bed. Many people do this, and just feel a bit bad tempered for the rest of the day, but getting out of the wrong side of bed in the Star Wars galaxy could prove fatal – on one side of Darth Vader's bed was one of those very deep and apparently pointless holes dotted everywhere around large structures in that galaxy, and Vader only realized what was happening just in time to grab onto the flimsy railing around the edge of it.

As he hung there over the near-infinite crevasse, making a mental note to Force choke whichever idiots had put the hole there and then put his bed next to it, he didn't need the Force to tell him it wasn't going be the best day in the world.

It went downhill from there. His favourite cape was in the wash, and he had to make do with an old one, which was getting a bit grey and nowhere near as terrifying; the dermatitis on his head was playing up; and the kitchens were out of waffles, and they would have to travel to the nearest planet populated by waffle-making civilians to get some more. Vader knew there were very few waffle-making aliens out there, and this did nothing to improve his mood.

So he shouldn't have been the slightest bit hopeful when the Emperor summoned him to the Holophone. But he was – he knew enough about probability to assume that after such a bad day, a good event was very probable, almost inevitable. No day could have only bad events; it was a mathematical absurdity, like flipping a coin and getting 200 heads in a row, or good triumphing over evil every single time.

Sadly, probability seemed to be having a bad day as well.

"There is a great disturbance in the Force," said the Emperor. Had he still had functioning lungs, Darth Vader would have sighed; all the worst conversations began like this.

Actually, there was that one which began, "Obi-Wan told me terrible things…"

"I have felt it, my master," replied Darth Vader. He normally just said this, but he had this time. It had been very distracting, and meant that the work experience Stormtrooper managed to blow up his Death Star on the computer game they were playing. In fact, he'd been so distracted he hadn't bothered Force choking him. Must get round to that, he thought.

"We have a new enemy…"

Again, Darth Vader would have sighed. The Emperor was getting increasingly paranoid. Just last week, he had ordered several Star Destroyers to go and destroy the post office on Coruscant, which he was certain was deliberately withholding a parcel from him.

"Who is it this time?" asked Darth Vader, in as close to a long-suffering tone he could manage, before respectfully adding, "My master."

"Frodo Baggins," said the Emperor.

"Frodo Baggins," said Darth Vader, "Frodo Baggins… wasn't he that builder who gave you a late finishing date for the second Death Star?"

"No. This one is the hobbit from 'The Lord of the Rings'."

"Ah yes. THAT Frodo. Yes." Vader's ventilator echoed loudly in the silence. "Isn't he a hobbit?"

"Is there a problem?" said the Emperor tetchily.

"No," said Vader hurriedly, "I was just wondering what the problem was. He's just a tiny human-"

"Even the smallest person can change the loyalties of a fanbase," said the Emperor, "He is a great threat to us."

"What?"

"To our fanbase."

Vader hadn't felt bewildered for a long time, and it took him a moment to recognize that that was what he was feeling. He had assumed it was a new kind of motion sickness. "I don't think he is. His book was quite big in its day, yes, and still has a few middle-aged professors and hippy students liking it, but we have geeks queuing outside cinemas!"

"So does 'The Lord of the Rings', now," said the Emperor.

Vader stared at the Emperor from behind his helmet. "It's been turned into a film?"

"_Three _films," said the Emperor in doom-laden tones, "It is a TRILOGY."

Vader's ventilator quickened.

"And not just a trilogy," continued the Emperor, "It is a trilogy to rival ours. People are calling it 'the cinematic event of our time', 'a landmark in cinema'."

"But WE'RE the landmark in cinema," cried Vader.

"We were," said the Emperor grimly, "But people are calling it 'the next Star Wars'."

"The 'Star Wars' films aren't over yet!"

"In the critics' minds, they are. They ended with 'Mesa Jar-Jar Binks!'"

Vader shook his head. "I should have driven my pod over that Gungan when I first saw him…"

"Yes, Lord Vader, you should have. But it is too late. 'The Lord of the Rings' is in the public eye – and they LIKEit. It is getting Oscars, it is getting TV spots and parodies, it…" The Emperor took a deep breath. "It is getting FAVOURABLE REVIEWS."

Vader gasped in horror, causing his ventilator to malfunction.

"And that's not the worst of it," went on the Emperor, as Vader's breathing mechanism tried to get back to normal, "As you know, it is not the critics that matter to the NERDS…"

"No," said Vader, his breathing finally regaining its normal rhythm. Every book or film character knew of the Narration Existence Review Department Surveyors, and lived in fear of them. "Our fanbase?..."

"Slipping away," said the Emperor bitterly, "Suddenly we're not good enough for them. They can go to these films, which are apparently BETTER, and not be ridiculed! These films have given geekiness CREDIBILITY!"

Vader was having difficulty taking all this in. "They're… they're going to see these films repeatedly? Past the recommended viewing amount?"

The Emperor nodded. Vader's heart sank. "And… they're not being thought of as weird?"

"They are," said the Emperor, "But… they're PROUD of it."

"No," said Vader.

"They have fansites."

"No."

"They have in-jokes."

"NO."

"They have fanfictions and obsessive fangirls lusting after anything that moves."

"NO!"

"Vader," said the Emperor quietly, "They have become a subculture. They have a name – Ringers."

Vader fell to his knees and reached his arms outwards. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-"

"Get a hold of yourself, Lord Vader! That hardly helps."

"It helps me express my feelings," said Vader sulkily.

"Save that for your unicorn journal. Oh, I've seen it," said the Emperor, giving Vader the look he knew all too well. "We have a PROBLEM to deal with, Lord Vader. Our remaining loyal fans, the ones who point out how the films have actually stolen ideas from ours, are being swamped by the influx of these… Ringers. And all too many are going over to their side, pretending that their blue lightsabers are Sting and their Sith cloaks are Ringwraith cloaks."

"The ingrates!" said Vader disbelievingly, "Once every three years, we get them out of the house and back into the real world when films are released – and THIS is how they repay us? By turning their backs on us?"

"Apparently so," said the Emperor, "But the NERD review is coming up. This is our time to strike. All of the 'Lord of the Rings' films have been released – Peter Jackson can no longer help them. But our triumph, Lord Vader, is yet to come… 'Revenge of the Sith' will soon be released, and then we can take back what is ours!"

"Yaaay!" cheered Vader, before remembering himself, and regaining his usual evil threatening composure. "That is good, my master," he said solemnly. He paused. "So what is it you want me to do?"

"Is that not obvious?" said the Emperor, raising one decrepit eyebrow. Vader watched it enviously. How he missed his eyebrows. "The film will not get back all our fans. So we must go directly to the source of the trouble, and stamp it out."

"You mean-"

"Middle-earth," nodded the Emperor, "The NERDS will soon come there to check the fanbase is still up and running. You need to sabotage it in any way possible. The changes will make themselves apparent in the Watching Dimensions. Meanwhile, send some representatives to the Watching Dimensions themselves… rally more people to our cause."

"Would it not be best to send people from the early years?" asked Vader, "More people will recognize them."

"Yes," said the Emperor, "Yes. Send the fan favourites… and send any handsome young men you can. We'll show them there are handsomer people than that ELF… and that RANGER…"

The Emperor was falling into sullen muttering. Darth Vader took this as his cue to leave, and rose to his feet.

"I will get onto this straight away, my master," he said, bowing respectfully.

"You do that," said the Emperor, "I will watch out for other rivals. With the NERD review coming up, they will be doubling their efforts… I hear rumours that the Harry Potter Universe is up to something."

"Very good, my master."

The Emperor didn't seem to hear him, and continued muttering, "Damn young wizard, stealing our ideas, oh, delivered to his aunt and uncle as a baby by a sage old wizard, that's original…"

Vader sighed mentally and turned off the Holophone. He stood up, straightened his cape, and quickly turned on the mini iPod on his chest to play 'Imperial March'. He turned and swept out of the room, walking in the way which made his cape billow importantly out behind him. It's all about PRESENCE, he thought as people stepped hurriedly out of his way.

"Captain Needa," he said, stopping one Imperial Officer who didn't duck out of sight quickly enough, "Send those new officers just transferred from Coruscant to my quarters in an hour."

"The ones hired to update our computer systems and handle our insurance?" asked Captain Needa uncertainly.

"Yes. There is a new mission which is actually worthwhile. And ready my shuttle. I will be departing as soon as I have informed them of the details. Do not disturb me for one hour, however. I have… er… meditating to do."

He strode away again without waiting for a reply. He didn't stop until he got back to his room, shut the door, switched the music on his iPod to something more cheerful, and picked up his unicorn journal and sat down on his bed.

He was right. It hadn't been a good day.

How lucky there was another unsuspecting fandom out there for him to take it out on.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you, lovely people who reviewed. Warm fuzzy feelings are extremely good._

**Chapter 2 – Plotters are as Plotters… er… Plot**

Night lay over Isengard. Well, not lay – more hovered at an unreachable distance, but still there and twinkling occasionally. Like wind chimes.

And in one of the chambers in Isengard, a very similar conversation was taking place to the one happening in a galaxy far, far away…

"The power of Isengard is at your command, Sauron Lord of the Earth," Saruman was chanting dramatically, hand held over the palantir.

In Mordor, Sauron yawned. Saruman thought he was a poet, and could get very over-dramatic when the mood took him…

"Who has the power to stand against Isengard and Mordor?" Saruman continued, "No-one! No-one at all! BWAHAHAHAHA-"

Making a mental note to work with Saruman on his cackling, Sauron said, "Actually, SOMEONE has the power to stand against us…"

There was a silence. "What was that, Lord Sauron? The reception must have been bad, I could have sworn you said-"

"I did."

"Oh." Silence. "Look, I know you're still a bit worried about the hobbit still having the Ring, but we're working on it-"

"That is not the main problem. Our main problem happens to be a young man who is an orphan and grew up with his uncle until he became muddled in the affairs of wizards and got swept up into a great adventure, and learnt more about the world at large in the process…"

It is very difficult to be tactful to a Dark Lord attempting to take over the world, but Saruman tried his hardest. "Um… my Lord, I think you've got confused… that's the hobbit. Frodo. The one we're dealing with?"

"No, it's NOT," said Sauron grumpily, "What, you think I can't tell the difference between tragic orphans caught up in adventure?"

"No," said Saruman hurriedly, "No, I think you're very, er, perceptive. Being an all-seeing Eye and everything."

"Good," boomed Sauron, "For the time has come. We must send forces to Hogwarts."

Outside, a warg howled.

"To – uh – where, my Lord?"

"Hogwarts," snapped Sauron irritably, "That magic school."

"Ah yes… Gandalf speaks of it a fair bit. He's friends with the Headmaster." Saruman hesitated. "Far be it from me to question your evil schemes, my Lord, but why exactly do you want us to attack Hogwarts?"

Sauron explained. Saruman listened.

Saruman understood.

Meanwhile, in a Galaxy far far away, the Rebels were tirelessly striving for peace, justice, and freedom from the tyrannical Empire…

Well, they had been, but now they were on break.

"Now, Luke, you have to jump up there – JUMP, you stupid boy!"

"Which button's jump?"

"X!"

Luke hastily pressed the X button, but groaned as his character plummeted into a hole filled with spikes. "Way to go, kid," said Han, "I'd just got a load of rings, too…"

Luke threw down his console. "I don't like being Tails…"

"Well, it's my Playstation, so I get to be Sonic."

"Whose clever idea was it to cover the entire of Green Hill Zone in spikes?" commented Leia from the sofa, "I mean, were they there before Robotnik took over the entire little land of Sonic the Hedgehog, or installed afterwards? If they were already there, who in their right mind would dig pits in a happy haven purely to fill them with sharp metal spikes for creatures to fall into? If they were installed afterwards, what was the point? Isn't it just an unnecessary expense for Robotnik, considering he already has the entire world under his control? Couldn't he spend the money on constructing better craft, which don't blow up after just a few hits from a hedgehog?"

Luke and Han stared at her. A few seconds later, Han raised an eyebrow.

"Rematch?" asked Luke eventually.

"Definitely," said Han quickly.

However, the opening music had scarcely begun again when the screen switched from the garish colours of the old game to the rather nervous-looking face of an Imperial Officer.

"What the-" said Han.

"Leia, I TOLD you not to install communication software on the TV!" said Luke exasperatedly.

"It means important messages can get to you wherever you are," said Leia, immediately sitting up.

"Also means we lose our highest-ever score on Pinball just because the Supreme Ruler of Boresville wants to tell you that something Boring happened in the Boring District," muttered Han.

Leia shoved his head. "Can we help you?" she asked the man on the screen.

"Uhh…" Whatever the man had been thinking he would see when he opened the com screen, he seemed that he wasn't expecting two men – leaders of the Rebels, no less - sitting in front of the screen holding Playstation consoles, Senator Organa sitting on the sofa behind them and shoving Han Solo's head, and a massive tub of popcorn between the three of them. But he composed himself. "I have a message from Darth Vader-"

"Vader?" said Han in surprise, "Luke, what have you done now?"

"Nothing!" said Luke defensively, "Recently…"

"No, it's not like that," said the officer quickly, "He – well, he asks for your assistance."

It took a moment for that comment to fully register. Once it had, Han, Luke and Leia didn't stop laughing for about three minutes.

On his shuttle to Middle-earth, Darth Vader was just describing his perspective on the day's events in his journal when the screen suddenly crackled into life, showing a slightly nervous looking officer. "Lord Vader?"

Darth Vader hurriedly shoved his journal under his chair. "Do not interrupt me suddenly! You could disturb me while – er – meditating."

"Apologies, my Lord," said the officer, hand instinctively flying to his throat, "But we have made contact with Luke Skywalker."

"Oh," said Darth Vader, "Bring him up on the screen."

"Yes, my Lord." As Darth Vader checked the unicorn cover of his journal was well hidden under his chair, the screen switched to show Luke, Han and Leia, who were only just getting over their giggling fit and were still laughing occasionally, and sighing happily at the irony of the situation.

"Oh," said Luke, jumping when he saw the screen and sitting upright, "Hi, Dad."

"Son," said Darth Vader. Behind the mask, he frowned. "You're looking thin."

"Dad-"

"What do they feed you at this Rebel Alliance?"

"I'm eating plenty, Dad. What do you want?"

"You're looking tired too. Are you getting to bed at a reasonable hour, or is this bounty hunter keeping you up all hours of the night playing Grand Theft Auto?"

"Hello, it's Sonic the Hedgehog," said Han Solo despairingly.

"I'm FINE, Dad. What's so important that you're swallowing your pride and asking US for help?"

"Who said anything about swallowing my pride?" said Darth Vader defensively, "But it is true – the Emperor and I do need your help."

"What do you want us to do? Stop fighting the Empire and let evil triumph for once?"

"Would be nice," admitted Darth Vader, "But that's not it. Son – we have a NERD situation."

All signs of laughter disappeared from the trio's faces. "Serious?" said Han Solo.

Darth Vader gave him as scathing a look as he could manage with his helmet. "Master Solo, do I look like the type who makes jokes?"

Han Solo looked at his threatening helmet, his all-black ensemble and the billowy black cape, and the threatening looking lightsaber on his belt. "Well," he said, "You might be good at 'Knock Knock' jokes if you tried…"

"What's happening, Vader?" asked Leia, as always getting back to the subject.

"The NERD review is coming up. This has never been a major issue for us, because for the last twenty years or so we have been the undisputed master of the fandoms…"

Luke and Han cheered and high-fived. "Weeee are the chaaampions-"

"BUT…" interrupted Darth Vader emphatically.

"Aww," said Luke, "I should have seen that coming."

Darth Vader glared at him. "Ignore him, he's an idiot," said Leia.

"But…" began Darth Vader again, "It seems that several other fandoms are popping up to rival us… the most serious being 'The Lord of the Rings'."

"Lord of the Rings?" said Han, "Isn't that the one with the midget?"

"Actually, it's a hobbit," said Leia.

"A whatit?"

"Hobbit."

"Aren't they from one of the moons of Utapau?"

"No, they're from the Land of the Shire."

"Huh," said Han Solo, "Weird."

"What do you want us to do, Dad?" asked Luke.

"I am currently on my way to Middle-earth now. I plan to… make some changes. If you three could get in contact with Obi-Wan, Padme, even the young me, ask them to go to the Watching Dimensions and get more people to like Star Wars. You three can go to Middle-earth as well, or maybe to a different fandom if the Emperor detects a different threat."

"Got it," said Luke, "Don't worry, Dad. We'll teach that hoddit not to go up against the Jedi!"

"Hobbit."

"Same thing."

Darth Vader nodded slowly, and vanished from the screen. Luke, Leia and Han sat back, still slightly stunned from the revelation.

"Wow," said Han.

"I know," said Leia.

"I can't believe a film without a dashing rogue like myself could be that popular…"

"Actually," said Leia, "There is a man who the heroes meet in a bar just as they set out on their journey to deliver an important object sought by the bad guys to a safe haven…"

Han Solo's eyes widened. "Was he a charming and dashing rogue?"

"He seemed like it at first, but he was actually a king."

Han Solo gasped. "Wow…"

"I think we've found where we could make our mark in 'Lord of the Rings'," whispered Luke to Leia.

"Oh dear," said Leia, shaking her head, "Those poor hobbits won't know what hit them…" She grinned. "Let's do it."

_BlueDove – I prefer LOTR most of all as well. But I like writing Star Wars. It's easier to make fun of. I've heard of that 'Hero with a thousand faces' thing – I'm one of those weird people who likes spotting similarities between films…_

_Precioussss – Thanks! I tried writing serious, but it just didn't work… back to crazee for me._

_Bulma Greenleaf - leaps out of chair in shock ARGH! What are YOU doing here?_

_xPussyWillowKittenx – Thanks! It wouldn't be a proper war between fandoms without Harry turning up, after all… he's in it more later._

_writeR – YAY LOTR AND STAR WARS! But Harry Potter is extremely good as well. _

_Ebon Oleander Wenham – Me too. LOTR ought to put up a worthy fight._

_Reasonably Crazy – Damn, the link didn't work properly for you either! Well, people who want to read this story and talk to fellow crazies, the link to my messageboard is listed as my website now, so just follow that link._

_Lady ot Rings – Of course I knew. I KNOW ALL._

_banner – It's the Force. Everything unexplained in the Star Wars universe is because of the Force._

_LadyDeb1970 – I know. I'm a Faramir fan myself. But I was going with the majority of lusters. Don't worry, Boromir will be in this story. _


	3. Chapter 3

_Again, thank you everyone who reviewed. Apologies for the long delay, I've been on holiday. _

_I've given up trying to get the URL to my website on here – it's on my bio, if you're interested in joining._

_Also, I'm going to try posting shorter but more regular chapters. Enjoy. And all suggestions for future events are gratefully received – my plot bunny tires quickly._

**Chapter 3 – Sith Lords and Daisies**

In the Shire, some young hobbits, not yet in their tweens, were chasing each other happily through some fields. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and butterflies fluttering merrily through the flowers, making the most of their short little lives.

One of the hobbits, skipping happily through the flowers in such a joyful way that you can probably imagine the cheery soundtrack, found an extremely peculiar thing. Behind a patch of trees, hidden from the village of Hobbiton nearby, a spacecraft had just landed.

Considering that little Daisy had never seen an interplanetary spaceship, she might have been excused for not really acknowledging it was there at first. She continued skipping. A moment later, she stopped and frowned, as the image buzzed around her head and her brain tried to find something to do with it. When she finally realized that she had just seen something which not only she, but no-one else in Middle-earth in the history of time, had never seen before, she slowly walked backwards until it became visible again.

The ship's ramp descended. At the same time, the sky seemed to become darker. The birds stopped singing and hastily flew away to buy life insurance. A dark figure emerged from the ship, and strode impressively down the ramp as if it didn't have time for such trifles, but was just humouring it. Music seemed to echo inside Daisy's head.

BOM BOM BOM, BOM BA-BOM, BOM BA-BOM….

The figure reached the bottom of the ramp and looked from side to side. Daisy saw that he wasn't only a dark figure for dramatic effect, but was, in fact, encased in some sort of black suit. His breathing echoed in the still air. He caught sight of Daisy, and strode up to her, stopping right next to her so that she had to crane her neck up to see his helmet.

Which she did, mouth slightly open, eyes wide.

"Greetings, child of Middle-earth," said the figure, "I am from the Star Wars Universe. I most certainly don't come in peace, but that doesn't concern you. Tell me, where can I find a land called…" He glanced at a name written on one of his gloves. "Mordor?"

"…" replied Daisy.

The figure seemed to increase in height, and the shadow surrounding him deepened as though the light realized that bad stuff was about to go down and was getting as far away as possible. "You cannot fool me with silence!" boomed the figure, "I have powers you cannot even imagine! Now unless you wish to suffer slow torture until you are desperate that you had more to tell me, tell me where your leaders are!"

Daisy looked at him. After a moment's consideration, she held out the little pink flower she had picked earlier.

The figure stared at it in surprise, as though he didn't quite know what to do with it. He slowly took it and examined it.

"Thank you, child of the Shire," said the figure slowly, and carefully put it into his pocket. "Now, fear my wrath, or tell me-" He paused, and there was a catch in his echoey breathing as he seemed to actually see her for the first time. "You're very small," he observed.

Daisy nodded.

"Where do you come from?"

Daisy pointed back towards Hobbiton. The figure looked, and then turned back to Daisy.

"Thank you, child. If anyone asks, you did not see me. And when our triumph here is recorded in the Sith archives for all to wonder at, you shall be remembered and whatinthenameoftheforceareyoudoing?"

Having decided that this figure wasn't about to hurt her, eat her or steal her mushrooms, Daisy had thrown her arms around his knees, which was as high as she could reach. The figure squirmed internally, as though nothing in life had given him any suggestions as to how to deal with this kind of situation. After a long awkward moment, it hesitantly patted the top of her curly head.

"I'm Daisy," beamed Daisy from somewhere around his shins.

The figure stared. "Pleasure," it replied eventually.

"Do you want to come and play?"

"Er. I'm a bit occupied with causing havoc in your world right now, but perhaps later."

Daisy released him, beamed, and skipped away to find her friends again. The figure watched her go, and then turned back to where Hobbiton lay in distance. It paused to straighten its cape and draw itself up to full height, and then strode away towards the village. The darkness followed it.

Darth Vader had come to Hobbiton.

_BlueDove – It wasn't MEANT to be a plot hole, it was supposed to be a big hole like the one the Emperor was thrown down… but now that you mention it, is that why there are so many big holes in Star Wars buildings? Are they actually plot holes? Hmmm… I must ponder on this… _

_Bulma Greenleaf - jumps again You're STILL here? Wow! Thanks for following it, and tell your boyfriend if he reads it, he gets virtual brownies._

_writeR – OK. Anything for the kids._

_Ebon Oleader Wenham – Yes, your little Borrykins is going to be in it… but not for a while. And it's great that it makes you feel good. I buy the Big Issue just to make the vendors happy – it's a really bad magazine…_

_Bev Baudelaire – I will! Well, I'll carry on working… whether it remains good or not is up to the plot bunny and the Flowers That Be._

_Eowyn Skywalker – Don't worry. I haven't forgotten any of them. slightly obvious wink_

_Freakanature – Who WILL win? Good question! Beats the hell out of me…_

_Banner – Well, this is quite a debate. Because personally I think he'd prefer Sonic, but my sister is insisting that he'd like Golden Axe… anyone else got comments on Han Solo's favourite video game?_

_Elly – EVERY Dark Lord should have a unicorn journal._

_Precioussss – Oh, been there. So, so often. I think my peers finally decided that yes, I was definitely crazee, when they saw me pretending to ride a dragon (ie running along with my arms outstretched yelling, "Wheeeee!")_

_xPussyWillowKittenx – I'd be extremely surprised if we didn't. He does heart it, you see._


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you nice reviewers. By the way, if I don't update regularly, just keep nagging me to, and I will. Threatening me usually pays off._

_And as I said before – suggestions are gratefully received._

**Chapter 4**

The Emperor was sitting on his chair in the Death Star, facing the depths of space. The stars twinkled, the planets shone, and the Star Destroyers buzzed around the space station like flies around a dropped toffee apple.

As much effort as the CGI team would have put into creating this magnificent vista, the Emperor didn't see it. He was looking through it, to the Watching Dimensions.

He saw two girls sitting on in front of a television watching a film. He recognized it as 'A New Hope', and smiled in satisfaction. Even without young Anakin and Obi-Wan to ogle, they were still attracting a female audience…

"Hey," said one of the girls when Obi-Wan appeared on screen, "It's Dumbledore! Come to rescue Harry from Mr and Mrs Dursley!"

"To go learn some magical arts and find himself embroiled in an adventure with an evil Lord of the dark side of the magic, who he is somehow involved with!" giggled the other girl.

"Man, I can't wait until the next book comes out…" sighed the first one.

"Yeah…"

The Emperor stared. Such feelings of horror, malice and shock were behind his gaze that the girls started, feeling the glare even though they were a dimension away. They blamed it on their air conditioning.

But it had nothing to do with cooling units. In the Death Star, the Emperor sat in silence, contemplating this turn of events. Girls referencing books during films? Looking forward to a book's release more than the last in a trilogy? (A LANDMARK trilogy) Preferring some young upstart of a wizard to the hero of the Galaxy? Luke could certainly be annoying, but from what he had ascertained, young Mr Potter wasn't that much better.

Something had to be done. Something would be done.

He nodded to himself. From that moment on, Hogwarts was in deep trouble.

Meanwhile, literally a world away, the sun shone brightly off the windows of Hogwarts. The sky was a clear blue, with only one or two wispy clouds floating in it uncertainly as if unsure they were supposed to be there. Birds who had recently fled Middle-earth arrived at the Forbidden Forest, alighted on the trees, and began to sing lustily, before being snapped up by wolves a few moments later. There was a reason the Forbidden Forest was silent.

Inside the castle, students went about their business happily. It was early summer, and they were making the most of it, knowing that some cataclysmic and tragic event was sure to happen soon – on the last day of the exams, most likely. It seemed odd that something always happened at that time of year, and always seemed to involve Harry in some way, but it certainly explained why they had been forced to sign that contract at the start of the year that they wouldn't sue the school if they got maimed/ transfigured/ killed while at school.

Even Harry, Ron and Hermione were complacent. Nothing too untoward had happened to them this year. Yes, a dragon had attacked them in October, and yes, some of the students were vanishing mysteriously when they went into the Forbidden Forest, but nothing too bad.

Which is why when they entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom, they weren't as alarmed as they could have been when they saw a man they didn't know behind the desk, writing 'PROFESSOR RUMANSA' on the blackboard.

"Where's Professor Disposabilis?" asked Hermione as they all took their seats.

The man turned around. He was wearing white robes, had long white hair and a beard, but oddly wore thick black glasses with a fake nose and black moustache attached. "He is – er – _on holiday. _Yes, that will do. He won't be returning to teach you. I am the substitute, and my name is Professor Rumansa. And I will be teaching you for the time being."

"That was a quick appointment," said Harry, "Dumbledore said they had real trouble finding applicants now."

Professor Rumansa's eyes darted about nervously underneath the black glasses. "Er, well, er, yes, er, he thought, er, I was the best person for the job. Yes. That's right. And do not question my authority!" he added, trying to sound indignant.

Ron and Harry looked at each other and shrugged.

"Anyway, yes, let's see…." Professor Rumansa moved around paper on his desk, trying to look as though he knew what he was doing, though he exuded an atmosphere of total bafflement. "So, I expect you are all already quite proficient in – what subject is this again?"

"Defence against the Dark Arts," prompted Hermione.

"Ah yes. That. Well, you won't really need much actual teaching, will you?"

"Sir?" said Ron in shock.

"Well, we can only take you so far, so, er, why don't you just practice what you know?" The class stared back at him. "Actual experience teaches you more than you could learn in a thousand textbooks," he added, and looked surprised that something he'd said actually made some semblance of sense.

"How are we supposed to practice?" asked Hermione, frowning.

"What's that?"

"There aren't exactly any dark lords around for us to battle with," pointed out Hermione.

"Not for another few weeks, anyway," added Ron, glancing at Harry, who sighed as he remembered the upcoming battle-between-good-and-evil.

Professor Rumansa dithered. "Are there none at all?"

"Nope."

"Dammit. I mean, er, good," he said quickly, seeing the pupils' faces, "Hogwarts being destroyed would be very, er, bad. So, um…" He seemed to abandon that idea, and looked around the room for inspiration. "So…. Erm…. What have you learnt so far this year?"

Professor Rumansa struggled through the hour, asking for a sum-up on everything they'd learnt so far, all of the students' names and past histories, and, surprisingly, whether any of them liked 'The Lord of the Rings'. Finally, the bell went, and Professor Rumansa was out of the room before you could say, "Don't forget to do your homework."

"Don't forget to do your-" he babbled quickly as he ducked out the door and slammed it behind him. The class sat in shock, hearing his footsteps shuffling hurriedly down the corridor. A moment later, a door slammed in the distance.

There was a silence as the students searched for the appropriate comment for this situation.

"That was peculiar," Ron settled on finally.

"I agree," said Hermione, "He didn't seem to be a werewolf, or possessed by You-Know-Who, or particularly evil in any way… what sort of plot relevance is he supposed to be?"

"I don't know," shrugged Ron, "Maybe Harry will make friends with him, like Lupin…"

Harry stared at them both. "Are you two blind? Can't you see what's happening?" Ron and Hermione shook their heads. Harry shook his head in amazement. "Professor Disposabilis' mysterious disappearance? Professor Rumansa just appearing out of nowhere, and keeping referring to 'The Lord of the Rings'? The NERD review coming up?"

"I'm sure it'll be blindingly obvious once it's pointed out," said Ron eagerly.

"What are you saying, Harry?" said Hermione.

Harry took a deep breath. "Professor Disposabilis must be in league with Voldemort, and this man is his long-lost brother come to protect us!"

Outside, a bird chirped tentatively in the distance, and was quickly silenced.

_Ebon Oleander Wenham – Gee, I don't know who'll win. It'll be exciting to find out, won't it?_

_writeR – I am actually on holiday on the moment… I do, in fact, have no excuse. Bad me._

_BlueDove – Thanks! Those hobbit kids do seem to press all the maternal instinct buttons._

_Bulma Greenleaf – Geez, still hanging around. What do I have to do to get rid of you? And I hope you had a nice time in Austria…_

_SlashyKitty – Ummmm…. Taize? Hopefully an explanation is forthcoming. I'm extremely dangerous when curious._

_Titansgirl27 – I really don't know who'll win. And you'd really think I should, being the author and everything. Ah well._


	5. Chapter 5

_I'm going off to a LOTR festival for the weekend, and then going on a biology field trip as soon as I get back (examining different kinds of seaweed – ooh, FUN) so there won't be any updates for a week at least. Thank you for all the nagging, it's extremely motivational._

**Chapter 5**

In the Shire, the sun set in a satisfied kind of way. The pinky-gold light shone off the windows of Bag End, and as the sun sank below the horizon, the glow slid off them in a reluctant kind of laziness, as though it was enjoying itself perfectly well where it was and didn't want to leave.

A warm silence hung over Hobbiton. The last of the summer haze hung in the streets, giving everyone a pleasant, happy, drowsy feeling. It seemed as though it would be a peaceful night.

Appearances can be deceiving.

Frodo Baggins was sitting in his living room, feet up on a stool, reading a recent letter from Bilbo, when the stillness inside the room was shattered by three, sharp knocks on the front door.

Frodo sat up sharply and stared at the door. In his experience, sharp unexpected knocks on the door didn't lead to anything good. He hesitated, but his Baggins politeness combined with Tookish curiosity encouraged him to get to his feet and go tentatively over to the door.

He pulled it open to find Darth Vader on his doorstep, with his hand raised as though he had just been about to knock again. "Oh," said Darth Vader in surprise, "So you _were_ just slow answering the door… I see."

There was a moment of awkwardness, as Frodo struggled with his two conflicting sides. The Baggins side wanted to ask, "Who are you?" while the Took side wanted to ask roughly the same, except not put so politely.

The threatening demeanour of his guest prompted him to use the Baggins approach. "May I help you?" he asked.

"Are you Frodo Baggins?" asked Darth Vader.

"Yeees…" replied Frodo slowly, and wondered why his mind started yelling, 'IDIOT! IDIOT! IDIOT!' at him.

He was answered when Darth Vader strode through the door with one impressive stride, and in the same movement, grabbed Frodo's collar and hoisted him into the air until his face was directly opposite his own black mask. The breathing sounded alarmingly close from there.

"It would appear, Master Baggins," said Darth Vader slowly, "That you've been causing us a bit of trouble…"

-

Aragorn was stalking through the woods near to Bree in a way that Rangers have perfected. Rangers don't walk anywhere – they always stride purposefully, even if there only purpose is to get up and get a snack.

He didn't really have any purpose today. The hobbits weren't due to turn up for a couple of weeks. He just felt like a good stalk.

However, it was interrupted by a beeping noise in his pocket. It took a moment to get out of Story Aragorn mode and remember that it was the emergency transmitter – the small phone given to all the major canon characters lest they all needed to be contacted at once, and beacons or messengers just weren't fast enough.

Aragorn frowned as he took it out. What was so important to break canon?

"Ahoy hoy?"

"Aragorn?"

It was Elrond. Uh-oh. Had he found out what he and Arwen had _really_ been doing when they said she was teaching him Eregion history?

"Er, yes?"

"I'm calling a council. You need to come to Rivendell immediately."

"Oh. All right. Wouldn't you normally tell me through a messenger though?"

"Yes, but I needed to warn you as well. As you know, the NERD review is coming up, and with the films released we have a real chance to get more funding this year…"

"Oh yes," said Aragorn, and mused, "We could get Rivendell redecorated."

"What's wrong with Rivendell?"

"Nothing, nothing," said Aragorn hurriedly, "You were saying?"

"I know some say my tastes are feminine, but I think all the open balconies and mouldings really add atmosphere," Elrond said in wounded tones.

"Yes, Elrond, I couldn't agree more," soothed Aragorn, "What were you saying about the NERD review?"

"Oh. Yes. Well, some other fandoms aren't too happy about us stealing their fans. Star Wars, in particular. We're a bit worried about sabotage. I haven't been able to get in contact with Frodo, and you're nearly as popular as him… keep your eyes open."

"Got it," said Aragorn, "What about Legolas?"

"He's already on his way from Mirkwood. He ought to be all right."

"Faramir? Boromir? The other hobbits?"

"All other characters are accounted for. It's just Frodo, and that random elf from the Council all those girls seem to like."

"Oh yeah… who was he again?"

"Work experience elf."

"Ah."

"So just get to Rivendell as fast as you can. We can formulate a counter-attack strategy once everyone's here."

"See you soon, Elrond." Aragorn closed the transmitter and slipped it back into his pocket.

Well, at least he had a purpose for stalking now. He immediately turned east and set off to Rivendell.

He had barely gone a few steps when his Ranger senses told him someone was nearby. Maybe it was the slight change in the air; maybe it was the faint rustling of leaves; or maybe it was the fact that a man had just stumbled onto the path a few feet in front of him.

"Why are there so many damn trees here?" he was cursing and scrambling to his feet.

"It's a forest, Han, generally there are trees here," said a woman who stepped out of the trees next to him. She was closely followed by another man, who seemed to be trying to suppress a smile.

The three of them saw him at once, and immediately blocked the path in front of him. "Aragorn, I presume?" said the second man.

"Errrrr," said Aragorn, "Yes."

"I'm hotter than _him_," said the first man disparagingly.

"Oh, I don't know," said the woman, raising an eyebrow at Aragorn, sounding interested, "He has a certain rugged manliness to him which is appealing…"

The first man stared at her in shocked silence. The second man, meanwhile, said, "You probably don't know us. My name is Luke Skywalker, and this is Leia Organa and Han Solo."

"Star Wars," breathed Aragorn, and immediately drew Anduril. He suddenly remembered it was still broken in half. Damn canon laws.

Han suppressed a snort. "I wouldn't bother with that," said Luke, "My sword's far better."

"What do you want?" demanded Aragorn.

"Oh, nothing much," said Luke airily, "I hope you understand that this is nothing personal."

"Not for you, maybe," grumbled Han, "Some of us have 'Number one Dashing Rogue' titles to uphold."

Aragorn looked at all three of them. "What do you-"

Leia shot him with her blaster.

-

_SlashyKitty – No, it's not Gandalf… try again. And what are your books like?_

_Ebon Oleander Wenham – Snape does make an appearance later – check the bits already put up on Wofflepuds. Only briefly, but he will make a bigger appearance later, I hope. I have no idea who'll actually win in the end… I'll try to check out your story when I get back, 'kay?_

_Precioussss – EEP! cowers from the THREATENING_

_Thomasio – Thanks very much! The recipe is very simple – just imagine a brownie on the computer screen in front of you, reach out and take it, and imagine eating it. Mmm-mmm good. …. Well, that's the temporary recipe until I figure out Wonka's secret of sending stuff by television._

_Mousewolf – I think Harry has every reason to be paranoid, though… he does have the greatest Dark Wizard the world has ever known out to kill him… I think everyone would become a little bit jittery._

_xPussyWillowKittenx – Yes. Professor Rumansa. Why, are you assuming he's someone else? innocent look_

_writeR – is hassled Ouch. Good job._


	6. Chapter 6

_I'm back from the Fellowship Festival! Oh boy… was that fun… I got to meet Richard Taylor, who is MY HERO, and also discussed Haldir's emotional problems with Craig Parker. My Biology Field Course was, um, interesting – who could have guessed there was so much to learn about limpets and seaweed? – but I'm back at school nowl. Cue Imperial March here._

**Chapter 6**

On Coruscant, in the Prequel Trilogy Sector, the Jedi Council was just getting underway.

"First item of business," announced Mace Windu, reading the list, "is preparations for the Master-Padawan Camping Trip on Endor. Plo Koon has kindly offered us some tents, and Luminara Unduli is getting treasure trails from the archives… On Saturday morning, all Master-Padawan teams meet in the main hall with their backpacks. All Jedi without Padawans already must take one of the younger Padawans-"

Several of the Jedi groaned. "Complain, do not," scolded Yoda, "You, that annoying once were as well."

"I had to look after one of them on the Kamino boat trip!" moaned Ki-Adi-Mundi, "They kept being sick over the side!"

Obi-Wan was suddenly extremely glad that he'd taken on Anakin as his Padawan as soon as he stopped being one himself.

"Second item of business," went on Mace Windu, "Yoda has worked more on his Yoda Pop recipe, and would like one of the Masters to try it-"

The Jedi Masters were spared from having to come up with some excuse or, if need be, flee the Council chamber, by Anakin running in.

"Sorry to disturb you, Masters-"

"Oh, that's no problem at all," said Obi-Wan hurriedly in relief, "What's the problem?"

"We've just received a message. Code NERD."

"Patch it through," ordered Mace Windu immediately. Anakin ran out the door again. A few moments later, the image of the Emperor flickered into view on the HoloPhone in the centre of the ring of chairs.

"Greetings, esteemed Jedi Council," he said, "May your robes always be scratchy and irritating, no matter what washing powder you use."

"And may your forehead become so wrinkly it droops over your eyes," replied Mace Windu, rolling his eyes, "What do you want?"

"I want you to send some people to the Watching Dimensions to tell them of the wonders of Star Wars."

Silence rippled loudly around the Council Chamber.

"Huh?" inquired Obi-Wan.

One explanation of the state of affairs from the Emperor later, Obi-Wan hurried out of the Council Chamber to find Anakin. He didn't have to go far – Anakin was sitting outside the door, trying not to look like he'd been listening.

"I wasn't listening," he said hurriedly, "But I already called Padme. She's bringing the cruiser to take us to the Watching Dimensions. And she's picking up Drive-Thru on the way."

Obi-Wan smiled and rested a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "At least you eavesdrop efficiently, Anakin."

"I learnt from the best, Master."

-

Even after several hours, Frodo still wasn't entirely sure what had happened. Someone had knocked on the door… he had opened it… and then he had been seized by some mechanical monstrosity who called itself 'Darth Vader'.

That he could remember. No, what his mind was trying to grasp was how he had got from there into a sack on board a shuttle about to depart for the Death Star.

He hadn't meddled in the affairs of wizards recently, had he?

He heard Darth Vader talking to someone, and listened intently.

"We have captured the protagonist, my master. He will be with you shortly. And I have received word from my son that the ranger has been dealt with accordingly, and we have forces on their way to intercept the elf."

"You have done well, Lord Vader," he heard the person reply, "You, however, must remain in Middle-earth. Try to make contact with their local Evil Overlord – Sauron, I think his name is. See if you can make a deal with him."

"And the Watching Dimensions?"

"I am confident the Prequel Trilogy characters can handle that. Meanwhile, I am sending forces to the Harry Potter universe."

"Very good, my Lord." The conversation ended. Frodo lay still, waiting for something to happen.

He heard Vader's footsteps approaching his sack. "Deliver this straight to the Death Star. But on the way, I need you to drop me off somewhere called 'Mordor'… look for a big volcano, apparently they're quite rare here."

Frodo suddenly could imagine what a single mushroom left on a plate in the middle of a group of hungry little hobbits felt like.

-

_SlashyKitty - claps You got it. I went for JK classic anagrams. She seems to like those._

_Pointy Ears are my thing – Yes, nagging does actually help. It makes me feel appreciated. So do compliments – thank you very much!_

_Hot Pink Lemonade – Erm, it might be… innocent look what a strange coincidence… Argh, not a long stick! flees_

_xPussyWillowKittenx – I can see both sides taking control of Frodo in turn. A Dr Jekyll/ Mr Hyde kind of thing – or Gollum/ Smeagol, of course. And I think a lot of things would be better than being stabbed with a lightsaber. Like embroidery. Or cucumber sandwiches. Maybe even simultaneous equations. Not cricket, though. Cricket is terrible. DAMN BRITISH SPORT! … sorry, I haven't ranted in a while._

_Vampirehelsing – Yay, thank you! _

_writeR – Eeeep, all the hassling… um, yes, I have a habit for leaving people on cliffhangers. Sorry about that. I do like suspense… I also enjoy torturing my readers… You may wish to purchase a trampoline, that's what quite a few of my readers did in another story when I kept leaving them on cliffies._

_Satanira – Hmm. I don't particularly care about my wardrobe. I have two pairs of jeans in total, and one's for special occasions. I'm a 'huh, which top is least wrinkly?' type of person… but good try._

_Ebon Oleander Wenham – I DID have fun! As you probably know… squeerichardtaylorandcraigparkersquee_

_Kamineko – Oooh, I don't know. Shall we wait and see? sits and watches computer screen expectantly …. I have a feeling that there's something I ought to be doing… Thanks very much, by the way! warm fuzzy feeling inside_

_Bulma Greenleaf – Your absence was noted. But you are forgiven, as you bring virtual rice. I'm this much closer to a virtual stir-fry!_

_Tsuki Yume/ Bluedove – Poor little big everyone. Except the Emperor. He seems to be doing OK._

_Freakanature – I'm not sure… Han Solo has the whole 'charming rebel rogue' thing working for him… but then Aragorn has the 'exiled rightful King' thing… I think we could get quite a debate going here…_

_Thomasio - is nagged All right, all right. And those virtual brownies taste great with virtual melted chocolate. Mmmm… and virtual marshmallows… goes in hunt of dinner_


	7. Chapter 7

_I received a few sad comments that the last chapter was too short – hopefully this one will be long enough. And also, the debate is on – who is better looking, Aragorn or Han Solo?_

**Chapter 7**

Meanwhile, in Middle-earth, Sam, Merry and Pippin were on their way to a similar council in Rivendell. They had gone to Bag End, but found it deserted, with a note saying, '_Hello fellow hobbits, I have gone off for an adventure, do not worry about me or search for me. Signed, Frodo Baggins. PS Star Wars is underrated.' _

None of the hobbits noticed anything amiss.

"Shall we go into the Prancing Pony?" suggested Merry on their way through Bree, "Aragorn might be there."

"He's probably already left," said Sam.

"Shall we go anyway?"

"Oh yes."

However, much to their surprise, when they had stepped over the collapsed bodies outside the door and gone into the pub, they saw a dark cloaked figure sitting in the corner, wearing a sticky label on his front saying, 'HI! I am ARAGORN. Really.'

"Aragorn!" they said happily, running up to him. He didn't seem to hear them. They suddenly saw a woman with brown hair sitting next to him, who had just elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

"Look, ARAGORN," she hissed, "Some of your FRIENDS are here."

The cloaked figure looked up in surprise, and quickly opened a book called '_Who's Who in Middle-earth'. _"Ah!" he said, "Er – hello, Samwise Gamgee, Meriadoc Brandybuck aka Merry and Peregrin Took aka Pippin. How are you this fine day?"

Even the hobbits noticed something here. "You are Aragorn, right?" said Pippin slowly.

The man looked shocked. "Me? Not Aragorn? Of course I'm Aragorn! I'm as Aragorn as Aragorn can be. Yup. I'm Aragorn."

"Oh, OK," said Merry and Pippin happily, leaping into seats next to him.

"Who's that?" asked Sam, pointing at the woman.

"Errrr-"

"I'm Arwen," said the woman hurriedly, "Of course."

"Of course," said Aragorn quickly.

"Really? Your hair looks a lot shorter – actually, you both look kinda different-"

"We're Aragorn and Arlen," said Aragorn firmly.

"Arwen," coughed Arwen.

"ARWEN," said Aragorn, "Whoops! You know me, forgetting names…"

"You remember enough of your own," pointed out Pippin.

Aragorn looked at Pippin as though he wanted to kill him. Pippin was surprised – normally Aragorn just looked at him as though he wanted to cause him grievous harm.

"And why's Arwen here?" asked Merry, "Shouldn't she be at Rivendell?"

Aragorn and Arwen both looked flustered. "Isn't Arwen – I mean, aren't I - a kick-ass warrior princess, always in the thick of things?" asked Arwen nervously.

"Ummmmmm," said Sam, "I wouldn't call you that personally."

"You are in the film," said Merry, "But normally you're just the stay-at-home type person, aren't you?"

"Errr," said Arwen, "Yes, yes I am."

Before the hobbits could try to deduce anything which could be incriminating, Aragorn said quickly, "So where are you going?"

"Oh – that council in Rivendell. Discussing how best to deal with the NERD review, and the competition we're facing," said Pippin.

"Oh!" said Aragorn, and exchanged a knowing look and a wink with Arwen, "Well, I doubt you need to worry about _that_."

"Really?" said Merry in surprise.

"Oh no! I'm sure you're _so _much better than, say, Star Wars, that, er, you needn't do anything to for the inspectors, right? Just, er, go about your normal lives… in fact, why don't you go on holiday for a while? I'm sure they can manage without you."

The hobbits all looked at each other. "Go… on holiday?" said Sam slowly.

"Yes!" chipped in Arwen eagerly, "Go into a different story universe. Have a look around, see what's happening. They'll manage here, you're _so _much better than Star Wars that they can manage without you."

"It would be nice to go on holiday," admitted Merry, "And they don't really need us, do they?"

"Legolas did call us a waste of space that time," said Pippin thoughtfully, a rare tone of voice for him, "Why not?"

"EXCELLENT!" cried Aragorn enthusiastically, "I've already got you passes out of the universe." He handed them the small cards that would authorize them leaving the canon. "Have fun!" he said cheerily, ushering them out of the door, and added just as he closed it behind them, "And don't come back for a LONG time!"

The hobbits, now outside the inn, stared at the closed door, slightly confused by what was going on. But they decided that, if Aragorn said it was all right, then _surely _they could go on holiday…

Meanwhile, inside the inn, 'Aragorn' went back over to 'Arwen', an exhausted smile on his face. "Convincing enough?" he asked.

"Hardly," replied 'Arwen', "If even hobbits get suspicious, you know you're in trouble. I don't know how you're hoping to survive at this Council."

"Well, you're hardly helping! I told you the bagel-hairstyle wasn't very Middle-earth."

"You said fancy."

"I _didn't _say 'baked goods'."

'Arwen' slouched back in her seat. "We need help. And I hope Luke's getting on all right…"

-

Legolas and his band of elves were hurrying from Mirkwood to the Council in Rivendell. This was even more difficult nowadays than it had been during the War of the Ring, because of an influx of other evil creatures – Mary-Sues.

"O Prince Legolas," cried the latest one, bursting from the nearby trees with crystalline tears pouring down her cheeks, "I am Amberanyastarylithiel, the second daughter of Elrond. My father wishes for me to marry the Steward of Gondor in order to cement our alliance with the south. But my heart belongs to Aragorn, and he returns it, but he has been bewitched by Ar-"

There was a thud. Amberanyastarylithiel crumpled to the ground, and Legolas continued walking as though he had not been interrupted, returning his special elven Mary-Sue Mallet to its holder.

"There are more of these _rwalaer_ than normal," muttered one of the other elves to him, "Something is not right in the canon – some plot holes must have been created, it's the only way to explain the current abundance of them."

"I know," said Legolas heavily, "We can only hope Lord Elrond has some advice for us…"

The elves did not know, but a very interesting contest was about to take place – Elven senses versus Jedi stealth. The elves, who could not only hear a pin drop at 500 paces but also run to catch in time, against a Jedi, who had learnt from the man who managed to sneak throughout the Death Star without being noticed, leading to the second one being installed with CCTV.

I will not say who won, because I would not like to put an end to such a good debate. But about a minute later, Luke Skywalker dropped down onto the path in front of the elves. Whether the elves knew there was someone nearby or not, I leave up to you.

Before the elves could grab their bows or daggers, Luke quickly waved his hand through the air. "You do _not _want to hurt me," he said calmly.

Some of the elves at the back, too minor characters to be given personalities, dropped their weapons and muttered that they didn't want to hurt him. The others looked slightly confused and lowered their bows slightly.

"You _want-_" Another hand wave. "-to go back to Mirkwood."

"I think we ought to go back to Mirkwood," said one of the elves to Legolas.

Legolas looked round at him in surprise. "You _do_?"

"Yes," said Luke, accompanied with another hand wave.

"YES," chanted all the elves, eyes oddly glazed.

Legolas looked from his fellow elves to the stranger on the path in front of him, who had now folded his arms and was looking supremely confident. "But…" he said, "This council's really important…"

"Oh, did I not specify?" said Luke, a smile growing on his face, "You _want _to go back to Mirkwood, but you also _want_-_" _Hand wave. "- to leave Master Legolas here tied up behind that tree."

Legolas stared, and tried to laugh, as if it was all a joke – but before he could, he was seized by his fellow elves, all muttering that yes, they wanted to leave Legolas tied up. "Hey, what are you doing?" he said in shock as they dragged him over towards the tree.

Luke surveyed this with the faintest hint of a smile. "I just want you to know," he said, as the elves pulled a surprising quantity of rope out of their bags and tied Legolas up so thoroughly that he couldn't move an inch, "That this isn't personal - it's just business." He paused and reconsidered. "Actually, it is a bit personal. You stole most of my blond-hair-blue-eyed-lusting fangirls. And they're quite rare, you know… I hardly have any now…"

The elves finished tying Legolas up. "Go back to your homes," he told them, "And if anyone asks, Legolas eloped with Amberanyastarylithiel. Oh, sorry, didn't you like her?" said Luke to Legolas, as Legolas made a furious noise behind his gag, "Don't worry, you'll get plenty more to choose from… I'm sure they'll find you soon enough…"

Legolas stared at him in horror as he set off down the path towards where his speeder was parked. As Luke settled himself into his seat, he heard the unmistakeable sound of the squeeing of Mary-Sues, and what he imagined a horrified elf would sound like when gagged…

Really, Luke thought as his speeder shot into the sky, you'd think something this fun would be forbidden for Jedi…

-

_Pointy Ears are My Thing – It's always fun when hobbits are in sacks. I don't know what it is. It's the same sort of thing as rabbits doing the Macarena, I think. That's always fun too. And Yoda Pop is an invention of Sarah aka amavi, a friend of mine – made from 100 all-natural ingredients from the Dagobah Swamp. Which, when you think about it, isn't the best advertising headline…_

_Freakanature – Don't worry, I can't be too cruel to characters. Mainly because when I try to write cruel, it comes out like Cruella from 101 Dalmatians – ie, over-the-top and generally disliked._

_Thomasio - tries muffins Hmmm. They're very good – you're on the right track. One more test… feeds them to Wob-Wobs They like them too. And they're very picky about their virtual baked goods. My compliments. claps_

_writeR – Aaaah, I'm being hassled from beyond the grave!_

_Wob-Wobs: Er, mistress, she isn't dead yet._

_Oh…. Errr… well, I'm still being hassled, anyway._

_SlashyKitty – Oooooh. That IS a good idea. Must fit that in somewhere. Luke could join in too – he's an Obi-Wan Metaphor Orphan…_

_Kamineko – Well, they didn't blast Legolas. Personally, I think this fate might be far worse… cannot suppress a evil cackle Leia and Arwen are going to meet, don't worry, and believe me, they don't bond… and thanks for reminding me, I haven't actually got Galadriel in here yet. She'll turn up at some point, though. Heehee, I have evil plans…_

_Mousewolf – Oh yes, there are. And they're being addressed. evil grin_

_Satanira – It's very easy to eavesdrop efficiently. Just mentally record everything that is said, and have a mobile phone/ computer ready to send the information to the correct people… Next Week – How to eavesdrop!_

_xPussyWillowKittenx – Everyone should rant about cricket. I mean, it's possibly one of the most boring sports ever invented – right up there with golf and snooker – but just because England's not losing heinously for once, it's suddenly the most fabulous thing since… since… sliced golf. And I have no idea what Yoda Pop tastes like – I've never dared to try it. Only Yoda and Anakin like it._

_Eowyn Skywalker – Thank you! waves you off And I still have no idea who'll win. Quite a few more fandoms will be entering the fray, though…_

_Machiavelli Jr – Well, I know next to nothing about Firefly… but I might put in some cameos by Star Trek, and probably Doctor Who since I have a leetle soft spot for the next Doctor…_

_Vampirehelsing – Ummmm… looks shifty… no… flees_

_Tsuki Yume/ Bluedove – Heehee, 'There's Something About Ani.' Now THAT'S what the title of Episode 2 should have been – I mean, why 'Attack of the Clones'? When I saw that, I assumed that, at some point, there would be some sort of attack by clones. What do we get? Anakin and Padme rolling around in grass. Geez. Talk about false advertising._

_Ebon Oleander Wenham – Well, if you went on my website, you COULD see Snape and Boromir and Faramir and all other various men of your depraved lustings._


	8. Chapter 8

_Quite a mixed chapter this time. Also, so far Aragorn seems to be the favourite out of him and Han Solo – any comments on this?_

**Chapter 8**

Meanwhile, at Hogwarts, strange things were afoot.

This, of course, was perfectly normal, so not many people took much notice. They saw that the house elves were suddenly talking in musical voices and trying to learn archery, that the Mirror of Erised seemed to have turned into a birdbath, and that Dumbledore hadn't been seen anywhere for a few days now, but they just put it down to 'the antics of that Potter boy' and forgot about it.

Defence against the Dark Arts was getting more and more peculiar. Professor Rumansa didn't seem to know much about the subject, and was horrified by how many of them had 'staffs', and had looked baffled when Ron told him that they were called 'wands'.

"But there are only five," Professor Rumansa had said in amazement, "Only five wizards. How can there be so many of you here?"

Even Hermione didn't know the answer to that one.

One memorable lesson, Professor Rumansa came bounding in, apparently in a state of great excitement. "Guess what, boys and girls?" he said cheerily, "Today, we're going on a field trip!"

The students all glanced at each other in surprise. "That's right! Taking you right where the action is! Into the Forbidden Forest!" he said cheerily, "Come on!"

Baffled, the students got up and followed Professor Rumansa out of the classroom, down the stairs and out onto the grounds. He kept glancing back to check that Harry, Ron and Hermione were still following.

"Doesn't this all strike you as a little… odd?" asked Ron.

"It's all part of his plan to protect us," said Harry confidently, "He has to be a good guy – right?"

"I'm not sure," said Hermione anxiously, "I mean, it would be a bit too obvious if he was a bad guy – but then maybe that's what we're supposed to think – I really need to read 'To kill or be killed? – A Guide to DADA teachers at Hogwarts' again…"

Neville hung back to talk to them. "Do you know if Dumbledore's turned up yet?" he asked anxiously.

"Nope," said Ron, "Last I saw of him, he was talking to some other wizard with long grey hair and a beard…"

"Really?" said Hermione, "I saw him with a wizard with short white hair and a beard."

"Did he have a staff?"

"No… he didn't seem to have anything, except this weird laser sword thing… He could do the Summoning Charm without one, though…"

Harry shook his head. "Odder and odder… ah well, at least we know we can trust Professor Rumansa," he added cheerily, as Professor Rumansa lead them into the forest and pointedly avoided the path, calling brightly that 'off the path was where the real action was'.

They followed him deeper and deeper into the trees, until they had no idea in which direction the school lay. And then they walked a bit deeper, until the trees were so thick above their heads that they all had to light their wands. And then they walked a little bit further, until the students felt sure that if they were left here, they would die trying to find their way out.

Then Professor Rumansa turned round and said, "OK, class! I'm leaving you here. First ones back to school get extra credit. Bye!"

And before the students could argue, an eagle swept out of nowhere and carried him off.

There was a silence as the students waited for someone else to comment first on this most peculiar and unfortunate situation.

This silence lasted for quite some time. And it wasn't a particularly helpful silence, as all the noises in the surrounding forest – twigs being broken, paws padding over leaves, strange gruntings and tweetings in the distance – seemed twice as loud, and just reminded the students of how much of a pickle they were in.

-

"… so as you can see," finished Darth Vader, "you trying to take over Middle-earth is causing us a few problems, because people are preferring your tale of good triumphing over evil to ours."

Sauron didn't reply, but continued to peruse the leaflet which Darth Vader had just given him, entitled '_So you've got a NERD review coming up and another Evil Overlord is stealing your thunder_'. "So what do you suggest?" he said eventually.

"Well," said Darth Vader thoughtfully, "I'm not sure… the Emperor is the brains of our Sith partnership, I'm just the pretty face… but obviously, we can't force you to stop trying to take over Middle-earth."

"You could try," said Sauron mildly, "But you would not do very well."

Darth Vader bristled. "Our Star Destroyers would crush Mordor into dust."

"My Nazgul would inspire terror into your men before you got within the atmosphere, and my Ring would corrupt your most steadfast of generals."

"Our Death Star- but never mind this, this isn't what I came to talk to you about," said Darth Vader, quickly getting back onto the subject, "I'm asking you – as one Evil Lord Going For World Domination to another – is there some sort of deal we could make, which would be beneficial to both parties?"

Sauron pondered. If you have never seen a great flaming eyeball looking thoughtful, then you are far saner than I, but you're missing out.

"I wonder, Darth Vader," he said eventually, "whether you have ever heard the saying 'If you cannot make yourself look better, make others look worse'?"

Darth Vader looked up. If it was possible, his mask looked intrigued. "What are you suggesting?"

-

Meanwhile, in a Galaxy far far away, a hobbit was helping himself to another drink out of the Imperial Shuttle Detention Area mini bar, and thinking to himself that, really, things could be a whole lot worse. He had been in the captivity of orcs before, and that had been far worse – at least these Imperial officers showered regularly, and didn't steal all his clothes. Well, not yet, anyway. But they didn't seem like the strip-search-then-not-give-clothes-back types.

He had been extremely surprised, having emerged from the sack, to discover that he wasn't alone. Also in his cell was a dark-haired elf, whom he vaguely recognized from the Council of Elrond, and knew that quite a host of girls had latched upon to lust after.

"What are you doing here?" he had asked in surprise.

Figwit had shaken his head. "I have absolutely no idea… I can only assume they didn't do their research very thoroughly…"

"Ah," Frodo had replied, "Any idea what they're planning to do with us?"

"Well, they're trying to ruin our chances in the NERD review… so we can only hope that they're going to detain us until it is past so that the canon falls to pieces without us."

"Hope?" Frodo had said incredulously, "If that's the best possible scenario, what's the worst?"

"I'm trying not to think about it," said Figwit delicately.

Frodo had shaken his head, thinking exasperatedly, 'Elves…' "Oh well," he had replied briskly, "Could be worse. Is there anything to eat?"

"Mini-bar's down there." Figwit pointed into the corner, where a mini-bar was briefly visible, before it was blocked by a hobbit launching himself at it.

Yes, Frodo thought fifteen minutes later, having devoured all of the Toblerone, macadamia nuts, crisps and bonbons, and currently settling into his third can of Coke, things could be a whole lot worse. After all, they could be on their way to certain imprisonment and possible pain and death at the hands of a rival fandom while their own fell apart in their absence, but not have a mini-bar… Always best to look on the bright side.

-

Meanwhile, at Hogwarts, a meeting was taking place in one of the dungeons.

"So what you're saying," said Han Solo slowly, "is that if I add a hair of someone to this potion, then I take on their appearance?"

Severus Snape nodded, an odd smile on his face.

"Han, that's perfect!" said Leia, smiling, "You'd look exactly like Aragorn…"

Han Solo frowned at her – she was looking a little too eager for him to turn into that Ranger. "I won't be stuck like that, will I?"

"No," replied Snape (Han didn't know whether he was being paranoid, but Leia's face seemed to fall) "It will only last for an hour… but remember, you must add a hair or similar from whichever person you want to turn into."

"Right," said Han, "We'll have to go track down Aragorn, then – what did we do with him again?"

"Not sure," said Leia, frowning thoughtfully, "I think Luke just chucked him through the nearest available plot hole… heaven knows where he ended up. Don't worry, I kept a lock of his hair anyway," she added, taking a lock of black hair out of her pocket.

Han stared at her. "WHY, exactly?"

"Well… thought it might be useful," she said hurriedly, reddening slightly.

Han made a mental note to continue interrogating her about this later. "Cheers, Snape – if there's anything we can do-"

"Actually," interrupted Snape smoothly, "There is something…"

Han and Leia looked at him, an unexplainable sense of impending doom rising in them. "Oh, nothing too bad," added Snape, "It's more for your benefit than mine… I assume that soon your fandom will be moving against Hogwarts as well?"

"Oh, no-" said Leia innocently, but Han nodded and said, "Yeah. In fact, I'm surprised stormtroopers aren't here now. You haven't seen a seven-foot black half-man half-machine Sith overlord wandering around, have you?"

"Can't say I have," replied Professor Snape, "You see, I have little interest in the NERD review – even if we were to get funding, I doubt I'd see any of it – I just ask that when you do attack, you take Harry Potter with you, and preferably do something extremely nasty to him."

Han and Leia glanced at each other and shrugged. "Seems perfectly reasonable. We'll be back soon."

"I look forward to it," said Snape, a smile spreading across his face.

-

_writeR - is shocked What… no hassling? You mean I ordered this Anti-Hassling Mop for NOTHING?_

_SlashyKitty – Ooh yes. Must work in the AOA. And I also hate Mary-Sues, but when they're torturing Legolas, I find I can bear them…_

_Freakanature – Well, he hasn't had much practice… but then he doesn't get much better in the future, either…_

_Satanira – You wait till later in the story. You'll get lessons on how to be an Evil Villain then. And… errr… who's Wufei? And does Satanira often threaten to kill people, or should I set my trained ninja Wob-Wobs on guard outside my room?_

_xPussyWillowKittenx – They're sports for people who can't do sports. Non-athletes in denial. In other words, losers. Nah, just kidding. You know another boring sport? DARTS. And croquet. Croquet is only fun when I'm commentating. And dressage! What kind of crazy person pays loads of money on a horse and then makes it walk sideways?_

_Ebon Oleander Wenham – I'll tell them to back off… eventually…once you've come crawling back. Watching people crawl is funny… like yelling at tweeting birds to shut up on a fine midsummer's morning…And what did you get grounded for, you naughty wench? (Sorry, I like calling people 'wench' at the moment…)_

_Eowyn Skywalker – OK, I will. turns on Star Wars: A New Hope LUUKE! EOWYN SKYWALKER LOVES YOU MORE THAN LEGOLAS! … NO, THIS ONE'S NOT YOUR SISTER! And thank you – I consider myself quite good at coming up with Mary-Sue names and backstories. That's not really a skill I can put on my personal statement though – I can translate it to 'imaginative'. And more fandoms are coming – won't say which and when, though…_

_Zelinko – It's never on TV! Not my pitiful only-four-channels TV anyway. I will track down a Trekkie and ask them to help me. My knowledge of Star Trek is a) the Star Trekkin' song and b) When going down to the surface of an unknown alien planet, do NOT be the nameless crewmember wearing red. You WILL die.#_

_Aaaand on that cheery note, so long and thanks for all the Sith._


	9. Chapter 9

_Few bits of news: A) Some of you read the Official Fanfiction University of Troy. Well, it's been taken down. Just so you know. B) I have a highly enjoyable chest infection – whoopee! C) Which will hopefully pass before I audition for Luna Lovegood – because, for some odd reason, the casting directors for HP 5 have decided to come looking at my school. Hmmm. Anyway, here's the next chapter._

**Chapter 9**

Aragorn opened his eyes, and quickly wished he hadn't.

One glance around confirmed his worst fears – he had absolutely no idea where he was. He doubted he was even in Middle-earth, unless building techniques had really advanced in Minas Tirith in his absence, judging by the large skyscrapers towering over him.

He sat up and looked around, trying to deduce where he was from what he could see. He seemed to be in a large city, very similar to those in the Watching Dimensions… but everything had the slightly unreal, very well defined and perfectly lit feeling of a Fandom World. So he was in a different story, not in the Watching Dimensions.

Everything seemed to have a slightly green tinge, he noticed… or was that just an after-effect of that gun that woman had fired at him? At the memory of being shot by the blaster, his head gave a sulky throb – apparently it didn't appreciate this kind of treatment and would be writing him a stern letter as soon as they were out of this mess.

A lot of people were milling about, but none of them gave him a second glance. He assumed this wasn't a realistic fandom, then - this was probably a fandom where odd things, like people popping out of nowhere, happened regularly.

He started walking along the street, trying to find someone who looked like a major character, who might be able to get him out of here and back to Middle-earth. For a long time, he found no-one – but then he rounded a corner and found himself in a park, where a most peculiar battle was taking place.

One man in black and wearing sunglasses was fighting – was that Elrond? That other man looked like Elrond, as well – and that one – in fact, Aragorn thought in amazement, _all _the massive crowd attacking the man seemed to look like Elrond. Hundreds and hundreds of Elronds. And the man was somehow managing to keep them all at bay with a pole…

The man in black suddenly leapt into the air, and everything froze. Aragorn had a split second to glance around, seeing all the Elronds stop attacking, frozen in mid-air, when suddenly the world span round a full circle, sending Aragorn flying into a nearby bench. Then, just as quickly, the world unfroze, and the man's leg flew out at the nearest Elrond, and the fight resumed as if nothing had happened.

Aragorn sat up from the ruins of the bench, feeling slightly dazed. But underneath his complete and utter bafflement, something was clicking into place… black coats and sunglasses… hundreds of Elronds… world randomly stopping and spinning around, as if it got bored if it stayed still too long…

"Hey!" he said suddenly, leaping to his feet, "HEY! MATRIX PEOPLE!"

The Elronds and the man in black immediately stopped fighting and turned to look at him. Several Elronds who'd been hurling themselves at the man in black stopped in mid-air, but unlike before, didn't just hang there but plummeted to the ground.

"Who are you?" asked the man.

"Aragorn," replied Aragorn, stepping forwards, "Lord of the Rings fandom."

"Oh," said the man, "Hi, I'm Neo, Matrix fandom. And these are Agent Smith."

"All of them?"

"Yeah."

"Hello," they all said in unison.

"Hey," said Aragorn, waving slightly uncertainly.

"What are you doing here?" asked Neo, and his face suddenly fell. "You're not here with Mary-Sues, are you?"

"No, don't worry," assured Aragorn, "Why, you got a problem with them?"

"Well, not as much as some… we use them as bullet shields, usually, but they can get annoying…" shrugged Neo, "Then what are you doing here?"

Aragorn quickly explained about being attacked in the woods by people from the Star Wars fandom. "I think it's because of the NERD review," he said, "They're trying to sabotage other stories so that theirs remains top…"

The Agents Smith all started muttering to each other. It was quite a sight. Aragorn had the idea they were all trying to be discreet, but it ended up sounding as though he was standing on a sand dune in a strong breeze.

"What do you think we should do?" asked Neo, frowning.

"Well… at the very least, find some way to get me home," said Aragorn, "And for your own fandom, well, just look out for intruders, maybe send some people to the Watching Dimensions…"

"The Smiths can do that," said Neo immediately, "There's enough of them. But how to get you home… how did you get here?"

"I don't know," admitted Aragorn, "Plot hole, I think."

"Hmmm," said Neo, thinking, "We need a plothole that'll take you to Middle-earth… Any suggestions?"

"A Lord of the Rings/ Matrix crossover Mary-Sue?" suggested Aragorn, "If they exist?"

Neo's face broke into an unexpected smile. "In fact, we have several…"

-

Professor Rumansa's feeling of self-satisfaction lasted for exactly one hour and seventeen minutes. That was how long it took him to get back from the Forest, into his office, pour himself a glass of wine, inform Sauron of what had happened, and then go down to lunch.

He'd have thought it would have taken a lot to destroy the pride of not only disposing of the story's protagonists, but many other young witches and wizards as well – who said he was losing his touch? – but, in fact, it only took one glance at the Gryffindor table.

Because, sitting there, calmly having lunch, appeared to be Harry, Ron and Hermione.

If he had heard their conversation, however, he may have been less horrified.

"Just act natural," Hermione was whispering to Harry, "Pretend that you're used to eating surrounded by wizards…"

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "It's weird, though… everyone's staring at me…"

"Protagonist!" shrieked Ron, whose head barely reached over the table, meaning something along the lines of "Of course they are, you're the main character!"

"You really think they won't notice her?" said Harry, nervously glancing at Ron, who, far from being tall and gangly, now seemed to be the size of an infant, and could only speak in a series of unintelligible shrieks.

"They won't," assured Hermione, "The canon will alter to fit us in… And don't rub your forehead, you'll smudge the scar!" she hissed as Harry sighed and raised his hand towards his head.

"Oh, right…" he said, "Sorry, Vi-"

"HERMIONE," hissed Hermione.

"Right… I wonder how Olaf's doing?"

"If I know him, he's doing something extremely fiendish," said Hermione, not with her usual look of gloom but with a barely suppressed grin.

"Yay!" shrieked Ron, which meant something like, "Hurray for the students of Hogwarts getting what's coming to them, and for us getting our revenge on them for all the years of them being better than us!"

"Well said," said Harry.

The students of Hogwarts were about to get a whole lot more unfortunate…

-

In Middle-earth, the NERD Council of Elrond was about to begin. Normally, councils made Elrond extremely happy – he finally felt as though he was contributing to something, and the attendees normally brought chocolates for him, though most of them were hastily snaffled by Arwen – but this time, as he surveyed the Council, he felt nothing but dread.

Most of the characters had arrived, but a fair few were missing. Frodo hadn't been seen for days; Gandalf had sent word that he couldn't make it but not explained why; Legolas seemed to have vanished somewhere on the road from Mirkwood to Rivendell; Saruman was probably up to his own fiendish plans (and good luck to him, Elrond thought fervently); they hadn't heard from Boromir; and Sam, Merry and Pippin… well, Eru knew where three unescorted hobbits might end up.

At least Aragorn had made it, Elrond told himself, turning to the Ranger, who was sitting to his right. But this crisis seemed to have affected him – he was looking haughty and distant, jumped whenever anyone spoke to him, and was accompanied by a strange female Ranger called Leiagorn, who scarcely let him out of her sight. He made a mental note to talk to Arwen, and then rose to his feet. Immediate hush fell.

"Elves, dwarves, hobbits, men… we all know why we are here. First of all – has anyone seen Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Legolas, Boromir, Gandalf or Saruman?"

The Council shook its head as one. Elrond said something extremely un-elflike, making several people raise their eyebrows in surprise. "Sorry," he said quickly, "But we must try and manage without them, I suppose… Our main threat comes from Star Wars-"

Aragorn cheered for some reason, but quickly stopped when he was elbowed sharply by Leiagorn.

"-and from Harry Potter," continued Elrond, looking oddly at Aragorn, "But I have heard that other fandoms have heard about our current warfare, and seem to be planning to try and twist this review to their advantage as well… Galadriel has looked into her mirror for me and has seen many strange things: skeleton pirates, a man with one eyebrow, a talking lion, wooden horses, people in black coats flying above cities, men with metal claws, and, most oddly, a trunk with hundreds of dear little legs…"

The Council started whispering amongst themselves, disturbed by this news. "It is unfortunate," said Elrond, raising his voice, "but we are seen as the biggest threat to other fandoms for this NERD review. We have gained the most fans in the last few years… I think some fandoms have become settled in their positions near the top-"

He was interrupted by the insisted bleeping of his phone. He hurriedly pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open. "Elrond here."

"Elrond, it's Boromir!" came a distressed voice.

"Oh, Boromir… why aren't you here at the Council?"

"We're having a few problems at Minas Tirith, Elrond…"

Elrond's stomach sank. "What kind of problems?"

"Well-" The phone suddenly went dead. Elrond stared at it in his hand in shock, as though it was about to explain apologetically why the call had suddenly been cut short.

Stomach sinking still lower, he turned back to the Council. "It seems," he said slowly, "that Minas Tirith is in a spot of trouble…"

Hundreds of miles away, Boromir was being dragged away from the phone back into the throne room by two pirates. These two pirates, cackling happily at finally being allowed to do what they did best without fear of repercussions involving a certain blacksmith, deposited the heir to the Stewardship of Gondor at the foot of the throne.

Cursing inwardly, Boromir looked up at the figure sitting on the throne.

Jack Sparrow grinned down at him. "Ahoy there," he said.

-

When the first Mary-Sues had descended upon Legolas, shrieking gleefully at the sight of their snugglebunny completely at their mercy, Legolas had thought miserably, "Oh Eru, this is how I'm going to die…"

Legolas had never got to hear the tale of when Bilbo and the dwarves were at the mercy of the three trolls, but if he had, he might have noticed a few similarities. He was still tied up and gagged on the ground; a little way away, the Mary-Sues were all discussing how best to enjoy this situation. I will not share what they said, because I would like to keep this PG, but I'm sure you can all imagine the sorts of horrible things that reached Legolas's pointed ears…

This wasn't how he was going to die, Legolas thought. This was hell already.

Luckily, at this very moment, Aragorn and SilverStarLight (the daughter of Neo and Arwen, who had been kidnapped by Agent Smith at a young age, raised as his own, and sent back to Middle-earth to steal the One Ring) popped out of the Middle-earth Mary-Sue Plot Hole. He landed with a bump on the ground and looked around in a slightly dazed way. He quickly recovered, however, when he caught sight of Legolas and the Mary-Sues.

"Hey!" he shouted, leaping to his feet and drawing his sword. The Mary-Sues looked up from their plotting, and their eyes widened. First the elf completely at their mercy, now defensive and angry Aragorn striding towards them? This was their lucky day…

Five minutes later, they had re-assessed this situation, and were fleeing shrieking into the woods, many holding their heads where they had been hit with the Mary-Sue Mallet.

"And don't come back!" shouted Aragorn after them. He started towards Legolas, reconsidered, and called after them, "Wait! Any Jedi, come back!"

"What?" said Legolas in tones of horror, "The Star Wars crossovers are the worst ones!"

"Trust me," muttered Aragorn as several Mary-Sues turned round and came dashing back, eyes wide and eager. "Er – hello. I was just wondering, er, how you lovely young ladies-" Two of them fainted. "- managed to find your way into Middle-earth? That is, which plot hole you came through?"

"I came through no plot hole!" declared one of the Mary-Sues dramatically, "I, Lumiarilithanarael Skywalker, came here in my X-Wing to flee my father, Darth Vader, who is trying to make me join the Dark Side-"

"That's just great," said Aragorn quickly, "Where did you _really _come through?"

The Sues stared at him in confusion. Another one began, "I, Baravernarysilvia Halleberry, was sent here by the Emperor to assassinate Prince Legolas, who was really The Lost Jedi but didn't know it, but fell in love with him instead-" but quickly shut up when Aragorn drew his sword and held it against her neck.

"Lookit, girl, I couldn't give half a fig which canon character you're having a tragic love affair with. Now, tell me which plot hole you came through, or..." He shifted his sword from her neck to her long elegant hairstyle. "… Or you're getting a haircut that no-one in all that galaxy could find attractive. Except maybe Wookiees."

Ten minutes later, the Mary-Sues were hurrying away looking scandalized, and Aragorn and the untied Legolas were making their way to the Star Wars plot hole.

"Nice move, Ranger," said Legolas, rubbing his elbows and checking the Mary-Sues hadn't stolen his socks, "Fun as that was, was there any point?"

"Oh, of course there was," said Aragorn with a smile, "The Star Wars universe are obviously trying to mess stuff up here, so I say we return the favour…"

Legolas's face broke into an identical evil grin. And everyone between Bree and the Lonely Mountain knew that when Aragorn and Legolas were together and grinning like that, there was going to be trouble.

Sadly, no-one in the Star Wars universe knew this, so when Aragorn and Legolas appeared out of nowhere in prequel trilogy Coruscant, no-one tried to stop them as they set off towards the Jedi Temple.

More fool them.

-

_Satanira – Righto. sets Ninja Wob-Wobs around leather jacket, dragon jeans and LOTR and SW T-shirts And of course fictional characters are saner than real life ones – because no-one's written a truly insane character yet. I HAVE MY CHALLENGE!_

_Kamineko – Yes, I will definitely agree with you on Anakin. He made episode 3 much more enjoyable. Hmmm… that WOULD be strange for Anakin to meet Vader… might have to organize that at some point in this… just to see whether we can make Anakin frown even more…And of course it's an open competition! POTC has joined the battlefield now, as has the Matrix, Harry Potter and Lemony Snicket. And more will turn up soon… And yes, Mace Windu was a bit of a wuss about having his hand cut off. And… you're right, where the heck IS Yoda? runs off to write him in_

_Zelinko – I think I will have to include Star Trek. First, must research it a bit more._

_Freakanature – I'm what now?_

_Pointy Ears are My Thing – Ummm, I'm not quite sure I want to unleash it on the world… but anyway… sends over Wob-Wobs with a crate of Yoda Pop_

_Ebon Oleander Wenham – IIINJUUUSTIIICE! phones Amnesty International And I can't update OFUT now… ever again… And yes, Han Solo is considered hot – most would prefer him to Snape, anyway. sits down to wait for you to come crawling back_

_SlashyKitty – Thanks! Torturing Legolas is what I do best. Apart from eat cookies. Tough call as to which I prefer though._

_xPussyWillowKittenx – Well, Saru – Professor Rumansa did it to get Harry out of the way to disrupt the plot continuum. So technically he succeeded – until, um, the new trio showed up. So for one whole chapter! Don't worry, Harry will be stuck in the forest for some time yet._

_writeR – Oh yes. Watch what it does - intercepts your HASSLE turns it into cookies Mmm!_

_Eowyn Skywalker – Oh yes… Artemis Fowl… but I don't know whether enough people have read it… I'll try to fit him in later. And the day Barney wins ANYTHING is a day of TRAGEDY!_

_Machiavelli – Ooh, neat ideas. Thanks!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Homework is starting to pile up, and creativity is running low. So updates might be less regular now. But I'll try my best! _

**Chapter 10**

The Council of Elrond had been going on for several hours now, and very little had been discussed. Shortly after Boromir's call had been cut off, Aragorn had asked that all the characters there tell him something about themselves; he had then asked whether they could order a Lembas Pizza Takeway; he had then suggested they get the party started with a quick game of Spin-the-bottle.

After that awkward experience was over, Elrond cleared his throat loudly and said, "Now, to business-"

"To business!" cheered Aragorn, raising a bottle of elvish wine. Most of the other characters had already had to drink a fair amount to find Spin-the-Bottle a good idea, and so cheered in a slurred way, "TO BUSINESS!"

"Yes," said Elrond, "Er, well said. Now-"

"Guys?" said Faramir, staggering to his feet and holding his bottle in the air, "I jusht wanna shay that Eowyn is teh mosht beautiful girl in the ENTIRE world!"

"Ahhh!" said Eowyn, a large slightly dazed smile on her face, also lurching to her feet and hanging onto his arm, "That's so SWEET! I wuv you too, my big strong ranger!"

"I wuv you _more, _my liddle sexy shieldmaiden," grinned Faramir, poking her nose.

"No, I wuv YOU more, my-"

"Please!" interjected Eomer, looking ill, "I'm already trying hard enough not to be sick, please keep fawning over my sister until I'm out of earshot."

Faramir and Eowyn collapsed giggling into their seats again, and kept whispering to each other and giggling. Eomer made a strange noise and edged his chair away.

"Anyway," said Elrond eventually, "I propose-"

"I propose we break for lunch," said Gimli, raising his hand.

"We just had Lembas Pizza!" said Elrond in amazement.

"I propose the dwarf washes his hair!" said Haldir, raising his hand.

"I propose the elf shuts up!" said Gimli.

"I propose the dwarf be used to scrub toilets!" said Haldir.

"I propose the elf be dumped in the river!"

"I propose the dwarf takes a hike!"

"I propose the elf be kicked in the-"

"SILENCE!" yelled Elrond as Haldir and Gimli leapt to their feet and started shoving each other.

"He's right!" said Aragorn, "There's only one way to settle a fight like this – SONIC THE HEDGEHOG!"

"Oh no…" moaned Elrond, but everyone in the Council cheered and leapt to their feet to follow Aragorn, Haldir and Gimli into the Games Room.

-

Meanwhile, in a strange tavern in the middle of a thriving city, a more peaceful conversation was taking place.

"It really is very kind of both of you to come," said Dumbledore, "Do order a drink, if you want one."

"Well, these are troubling times," replied Gandalf, "With this NERD review coming up, most fandoms are forgetting the canon and seeking to sabotage each other in any way possible… and I personally wouldn't trust a single item of food in this place," he added, looking around the crammed filthy interior with a look of refined mild horror on his face. "What did you say it was called?"

"The Mended Drum," said Dumbledore, "In another Fandom. We needed to meet in neutral territory…"

Obi-Wan was sitting on his stool and looking around in a slightly uneasy way. "This is more scummy and villainy than Mos Eisley…"

"Of course," said Dumbledore, barely flinching as two bottles went whizzing by his head, closely followed by the man who had recently thrown them, "Now – this NERD review."

"Causing a lot of trouble," tutted Gandalf.

"Indeed. Your fandom especially, Master Kenobi, seems to be picking fights with others…"

"Hey," said Obi-Wan, raising his hands defensively, "That's the Emperor's fault. First I knew of it was young Luke phoning me and asking for directions to Mirkwood."

"Mirkwood?" said Gandalf, eyebrows shooting up in alarm. And he had quite considerable eyebrows in order to express his anxiety, so no-one was left in any doubt.

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, "All this fighting, all this conflict… all it does is drive us apart, so that small fandoms like teen romantic comedies have a chance with the NERD review."

"Surely not!" said Obi-Wan in horror.

"Oh yes."

"But wait, Dumbledore," said Gandalf, "Are you saying we should all just stop trying to promote our fandoms and let the NERDS decide which is best based on actual facts?"

The three wizards actually managed to keep straight faces for a few seconds, but then they all burst out laughing.

"Dear Gandalf," sighed Dumbledore, wiping away tears of mirth when their laughter subsided, unaware that everyone in the Mended Drum had looked up at them in confusion – laughter from pure amusement was a sound rarely heard there – "of course I am not suggesting such an absurdity. I just recommend we refrain from irreversible damage to each other's fandoms – make sure no-one gets killed, for example."

"Oh yes, I'd agree there," said Obi-Wan, "No-one wants death."

"Except for Jar-Jar," said Gandalf quickly.

"Except for Jar-Jar," allowed Obi-Wan, "And we're working on it, I promise you… it's just very difficult to kill CGI characters. All weapons go straight through them, you see, them just being pixels. But how can we stop people killing each other? I couldn't stop Anakin with the Jedi…"

"You could have not sent him, the young inexperienced confused Padawan, with the love of his life into the middle of a secluded and extremely romantic area," pointed out Gandalf.

"Well, if we're getting onto that," said Obi-Wan, bristling, "I could very well question you sending the One Ring off with a hobbit, instead of just getting Gwaihir to drop it into Mount Doom."

Gandalf rolled his eyes. "How many times? The eagles are their own race, they didn't really care about the war, they could have been shot down-"

"My friends," said Dumbledore firmly, "We are not here to question each other's plot decisions. We are here to decide how we're going to limit the damage done to each other."

"I agree with the no death rule," said Obi-Wan, "But how are you going to manage it?"

"Well, that's one of the reasons we're meeting here," said Dumbledore brightly, "I got in contact with an old friend of mine recently - he is quite willing to help us out."

"But… how can he help us?" asked Gandalf, frowning.

"Oh, quite easily," said Dumbledore lightly, "Considering his area of work… ah, here he is now!" he said cheerily, looking over their shoulders.

Obi-Wan and Gandalf span round to find a black robed figure standing directly behind them. Their eyes struggled between the pure darkness of his cloak, the scythe he was holding in one skeletal hand (which was so sharp it cleaved light, causing a faint blue glow around the blade) and the small blue pinpricks of light in the depths of its skull, like distant stars.

"How are you this evening, Death?" asked Dumbledore warmly.

COULD BE WORSE, said Death in leaden tones, sitting in a chair next to Obi-Wan, who looked less than happy about the seating arrangements. JUST HAD A BIT OF TROUBLE PERSUADING A MONK THAT HE WAS DEAD.

"I thought monks were generally very open to the process?" said Dumbledore, in tones of someone having a completely normal and slightly interesting conversation.

THIS MONK WAS A MEMBER OF A CULT WHICH IS CERTAIN IT HAS ACHIEVED IMMORTALITY, said Death grimly – not that he could manage many other tones of voice very successfully – and signalled the barman to bring him a drink. The barman brought it over, looking slightly dazed, and wandered away looking thoroughly confused.

"No-one else can see him, by the way," added Dumbledore conversationally to Obi-Wan and Gandalf, "So, Death – I mentioned to you earlier about the trouble we were having?"

AH YES, said Death, MAKING SURE THERE ARE NO FATALITIES IN THIS TROUBLE OF YOURS?

"Exactly."

EXPECTING MUCH DEATH, WERE YOU?

"Well, you can't be too prepared… deaths actually in the canon reverse themselves after a while when the plot rewinds, but if anyone is killed _out _of the canon, well, they'd stay dead and drop out of the story."

I SEE YOUR PROBLEM.

"Good good. So, can you help?"

Death replaced his empty glass on the bar (no-one had seen how he'd managed to drink it) and looked thoughtful. Technically, considering he was just a skull, he lacked the proper muscles to manage it, but he made a considerable effort. SUPPOSE SO, he said eventually, I'LL HAVE TO GET THAT BOY, MORT, TO TAKE OVER ROUNDS HERE, OF COURSE.

"We are very grateful. Sorry for any inconvenience it might cause."

NO, IT'S NO TROUBLE, said Death, getting to his feet and picking up his scythe where he'd rested it against the bar (the blade narrowly missing Obi-Wan's head) VERY ENTHUSIASTIC LAD, VERY TRUSTWORTHY – AS LONG AS NO PRINCESSES ARE INVOLVED, OF COURSE, he added slightly darkly. And considering his tone of voice was already extremely dark, just this slight increase made Obi-Wan and Gandalf shudder. WELL, GOT TO BE OFF – THERE'S AN ASSASSINATION IN STO HELIT IN A FEW MINUTES. NICE TO SEE YOU AGAIN, DUMBLEDORE.

"Give my best wishes to Albert," called Dumbledore as Death strode away through the wall. "Nice chap," he added to Obi-Wan and Gandalf, "Lovely manners."

-

If Darth Vader had been having a bad day when he discovered their rivalry in the NERD review, Lord Voldemort was having a worse one. He was also having problems with laundry, dermatitis and lack of waffles. He hadn't accidentally fallen down a large hole ("It's ventilation for the reactor core," an Imperial official had tried to explain to Darth Vader – rather boring last words, but at least he didn't give up), but he had recently been thwarted by Harry Potter _again_. To be defeated once was understandable, twice was bad luck, but by now it was just getting embarrassing.

Normally, he would just torture a couple of Death Eaters, talk to his psychotherapist (or just save time and torture his psychotherapist) and move on. But, to his astonishment, he seemed to be becoming disheartened.

Also, he was finding it extremely difficult to concentrate on his evil plotting at the moment. A new batch of Hogwarts students had just got their Apparition licences, and he was yet again regretting setting himself up as a specific Apparition point. It had been so that the Death Eaters could find him wherever he was – but, unfortunately, the students could Apparate next to him as well.

There was a time, he thought irritably, when people wouldn't dare come near him. But now, thanks to that Potter boy, a new student was popping out of the air every five minutes, just long enough to do something annoying and then vanishing again before he could point his wand at them.

Bloody teenagers.

"I get knocked down! But I get up again! No, you're never gonna keep me down!" the latest group belted out loudly, having appeared in the middle of his latest brainstorming session. "I get knocked down!"

"You little-" he had snarled, but they disappeared giggling before he could finish his sentence. With a sigh of frustration, he sat back in his seat again. They had only been there for a few seconds, but the damage was done – he'd have that song stuck in his head all day.

Memory charms were invented for this very reason, he thought with no small amount of relief. But before he could magically erase Chumbawumba from his head and save him several hours of irritation, there was a knock at the door.

He looked mournfully from his wand to the door, and called, "Yes?"

To his mild surprise, Darth Vader and Sauron walked in. Well, Darth Vader strode in impressively, Imperial March blasting from the I-Pod on his chest, and Sauron sort of glided in his Massive Flaming Eye o' Doom™ shape.

To his credit, Voldemort regained his voice after only a few seconds. "Can I help you?"

Darth Vader and Sauron looked down on him. Even though all Voldemort could see was a mask and an eyeball, he got the distinct impression that they disapproved of him.

"You are the Evil Overlord of this fandom?" said Darth Vader. Voldemort thought he could detect a tone of disdain in his mechanical voice.

"Errr – well, I'm working on it…"

Darth Vader and Sauron exchanged looks. "I see," said Darth Vader, and the two of them sat down opposite him.

Voldemort felt a stir of irritation. "Can I help you?" he asked again.

"Not really," said Sauron, "WE are here to help YOU. This is Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, and I am the Dark Lord Sauron of Middle-earth-"

"I thought you were defeated," said Voldemort slightly smugly.

If Sauron had an eyebrow, Voldemort was sure he would be on the receiving end of a glare at that moment. As it was, the flames burning around his eye flared out, burning the upholstery.

Darth Vader tried to pat him reassuringly, but quickly stopped when his glove got singed. "Yes, Voldemort, he technically _was _defeated-"

"But I was defeated by the all the united armies of the West," pointed out Sauron irritably, "_You _are constantly defeated by a _teenager_."

"Oh, and that's so much worse than a hobbit," shot back Voldemort.

Before Sauron could singe more of Voldemort's soft furnishings, Darth Vader quickly cut in, "Well, actually, Voldemort, we were thinking that we might offer you some help with defeating this Harry."

"I don't need help," snapped Voldemort.

"Really?" said Darth Vader mildly, "How many times is it that you've been defeated by him now?"

"Four times."

"Are you counting the time he destroyed the memory of yourself in the Chamber of Secrets with only a hat and a phoenix?"

Voldemort's shoulders slumped slightly. "All right, five."

"I thought so. Did he have any aids? Any super-powerful weapons to protect him?"

"Errr… well, he had a wand…"

"You did too, didn't you?"

"Er… yes…"

"How large was his army?"

"Er…"

"He did have incredibly powerful allies, didn't he?"

Voldemort's shoulders continued to sag. "He had five people with him last time…"

"Ah. And they were?"

Voldemort suddenly felt extremely small. "Just his schoolfriends…"

"And he was on his own the rest of the time?"

"Er… well…" Voldemort hung his head. "Yes."

Darth Vader sat back. Behind his mask, he was smiling. This was almost too easy. He watched Voldemort staring morosely at the floor, so deep in thought that he didn't notice a teenage boy popping into the air behind him and sticking an 'IMPERIUS ME' sign onto his back, and vanishing with a stifled laugh.

"So… you're finding it quite difficult to defeat him, then?" asked Sauron innocently.

"It's the canon!" wailed Voldemort miserably, "It's being strung out over seven books, I can't have a final showdown until the seventh…"

"Does the canon make the Dark Lord, or the Dark Lord make the canon?" asked Sauron in a mystical voice.

"If you really wanted to dispose of Harry, you could rebel against the canon," pointed out Darth Vader, "He would be resurrected when the plot rewound."

"He – he would?" Voldemort looked from Darth Vader to Sauron in surprise. "I hadn't heard that…"

"Well, you're a new fandom, aren't you?" said Darth Vader in tones coming close to innocent, "You haven't been around that long… But it's true. You could rebel against the canon and kill Harry, but when the canon automatically rewinds, he'd come back again, no harm done."

Voldemort struggled to grasp this idea. It seemed so amazing, so wonderful – if he could just kill Harry _once_, he was sure he would find the idea of his inevitable defeat far more acceptable… but something was distracting him…

"WOULD WHICHEVER KID IS HUMMING PLEASE GET OUT?" he yelled suddenly. There was a giggle from the corner, and an arm stuck out from under an Invisibility Cloak and waved, and then vanished.

"They do that…" muttered Voldemort angrily, "Just stand behind me humming…"

"You could get revenge," said Sauron slyly, "Get revenge on them all…"

Voldemort was tempted. Ohh, he was tempted.

"If you decide to," said Darth Vader, rising to his feet, "then I'd pay a visit to Hogwarts. A certain Professor Rumansa seems out to kill Harry as well. Maybe you could work together?"

Voldemort jerked his head up. "Someone else is trying to kill Harry?"

"Oh yes," said Sauron, looking around innocently – and, him being just an eyeball, this was quite a sight – "Out of canon, as well. But, of course, it wouldn't cause any harm…"

Darth Vader and Sauron left grinning. Voldemort was left alone, a smile spreading over his face. Well, that settled it. If anyone was going to kill Harry, it would be him.

-

_Titansgirl27 – Ooh, we have a Han supporter. I'd have to agree with you on the Han being more fun point – but then Aragorn might be fun at parties… though from what we saw of him at the Rohan yay-we-won-Helm's-Deep Party, he did seem a bit dull, what with pausing before drinking, just nodding at Eowyn, breaking the mood by bringing up Frodo and finally going outside to talk to Legolas… yeah, I'd prefer Han at my party._

_Ebon Oleander Wenham – Really really really sincerely? Whoa… that's sincere…And excuse me, I'd hope that I was zany ALL the time. Well, actually I'm not feeling too zany right now, but that's because I've been translating Latin for the past hour. And you DID come back! pounce glomp huggle_

_writeR – What? NOOO! HOW DID YOU GET PAST THE MOP? throws mop away TRAITOR!_

_Satanira – Nooo, tis MY leather jacket! And my Wob-Wobs are very well trained, I warn you… they use pineapples and barstools without mercy…_

_xPussyWillowKittenx – Thanks! It's about time the others joined in. Even more are going to turn up soon…_

_Kamineko – It can't, really. But with all the major fandoms scrapping with each other, other smaller fandoms can sneak in and try to get recognition. And POTC does have quite a following… Also, I really don't know where Chewie is… dangit. He's probably off hiding with Obi-Wan… Agreed, there is no hot hero in HP. But I'm not too fond of Neo, personally – I used to be, but along with Legolas and Aladdin, those crushes are far behind me…_

_SlashyKitty – Ooooh, that's a good idea. Jack Skellington has become the patron saint of goth girls… he does indeed deserve recognition._

_Freakanature – Errr, OK… takes compliment stares at it What do I DO with it?_

_Mousewolf – I'm not sure what a Nexu is, and I'm not sure I want to know…_

_Bev Baudelaire – Ahhh, that trunk… you'll see. Heeheehee._


	11. Chapter 11

_Homework is no longer piling up, because I dropped Biology, because I decided NOT to do medicine after all but to go and study Classics instead. So I get to learn English! Yaaay!_

**Chapter 11**

Meanwhile, in the Forbidden Forest, the students were still standing around and wondering how best to get back to school. Just so you know. They haven't been in the story for a bit.

"Could you send a Patronus?" suggested Ron, "Like the Order? Tell someone where we are?"

"I can try," said Harry, and pulled out his wand. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

The stag erupted from the end of his wand. It looked around and back at Harry, slightly baffled by the lack of Dementors.

"Er," said Harry, "Can you, er, go up to the school and tell them we're stuck here?"

The stag gave Harry what he thought was an extremely disdainful look, and vanished. "Hey!" said Harry, "Stupid ingrate!"

"What about the Four-point spell?" said Hermione suddenly, and laid her wand on her hand. "Point me," she muttered, and it span around to face a particularly large and vicious looking bush. "Right, that way's north – which direction does the school lie in?"

Everyone looked at each other and shrugged. "We've been going to this school for years, and no-one knows which direction it lies in in relation to the Forest?" said Hermione in disbelief.

"Looks like it," sighed Harry.

Ron had resorted to more crude methods of getting back. "CAR!" he was yelling into the trees, "CAR! WE NEED A RIDE BACK AGAIN!"

"Don't bother, Ron," said Hermione, "I heard it ran off with the car Christine from the Steven King novel…"

"Really? I heard she was driving out with the car from the 'Dukes of Hazzard'," said Harry in surprise.

Ron sat down heavily on the ground. "Something's wrong here. The canon's working against us. It should be on our side – helping us get back to the school."

"Maybe it's less complicated for it if we stay here," said Harry.

"Or maybe someone's tampered with it," said Hermione grimly.

Whatever it was, they were stuck there.

-

The closer Frodo and Figwit got to the Death Star, the smaller the odds of their rescue became. They were already extremely poor, considering no-one in the Lord of the Rings fandom had a spaceship, no-one knew where they were, and no-one in the Star Wars universe found their well-being that important.

When they came out of hyperspace near the Death Star, their odds became smaller.

As they landed in the docking bay, their odds of rescue were less than those of not being struck by lightning when standing on a hillside in Greek mythology wearing a metal suit and shouting that Zeus is a 'drunk idiot who couldn't hit water if he fell out of a boat'.

And by the time they were being lead into the Emperor's main chamber, their odds of rescue were about the same as the odds of being rescued by a passing ship, having been ejected from your own, before your thirty seconds of air runs out.

Yet Frodo was still quite upbeat.

As Frodo and Figwit were lead into the Emperor's chamber, the Emperor heard Frodo remark to the stormtroopers, "Oh boy, how embarrassing. You guys are all wearing the same outfit. Or did you all co-ordinate when you got up this morning?" And the Emperor did something he had never done before.

He blinked in surprise.

"Oh," muttered Figwit to Frodo, "dear. That's the Emperor."

Frodo stared. "What, the old wrinkly guy in the bathrobe?"

Figwit made a faint whimpering noise and edged away from Frodo.

"Frodo Baggins," said the Emperor suddenly and dramatically, in a way which Frodo was sure had taken a lot of practice to get just right, "And – er – random elf, whatever your name is… I am the Emperor of this Galaxy, and this fandom. And _you_…" He paused for the exact right amount of time, down to the nearest microsecond, "are now my prisoners."

"Oh," said Frodo, and shrugged. "OK."

Figwit added something which sounded like, "Mimblewimble."

The Emperor regarded them both, fighting to control his right eyebrow which suddenly seemed inclined to creep up his wrinkly forehead. He chose to continue in the same threatening powerful way. "You will remain here on the Death Star until I decide otherwise. I can assure you that your stay will… not be pleasant. We may torture you to gain information about your fandom, or just for our own amusement. We may fill every hour of your day with unimaginable torment, and some extra hours for a bonus. We may – what is it?" he snapped irritably at Frodo, who was waving his hand in the air.

"Where's the bathroom?" asked Frodo, lowering his hand, "I haven't been since Darth Vader picked me up at Bag End. I can't go in shuttle bathrooms, you see," he added when the Emperor stared at him blankly, "I'm worried I'm going to be sucked into them. And I don't like the dispensers that only give you one tiny square – I mean, how is that sufficient? Seriously? It can't be hygienic."

The Emperor's eyes narrowed. "Can't it wait?"

"Ummmm," said Frodo, starting to dance from foot to foot and getting a slightly pained expression on his face, "No, no, it really can't."

The Emperor sighed. "Third on the right."

"Cheers," said Frodo, and darted out of the door, letting it slam behind him. The Emperor and Figwit were left in silence.

"I don't know him," said Figwit hurriedly. The Emperor was too lost in surprise to answer.

They waited for him to return. And waited. And waited. Finally, the intercom button on the Emperor's chair buzzed. "Yes?"

"Um," crackled the voice through the receiver, "Sir, we have a slight problem…"

"Slight problem? What do you mean? Where's the hobbit?"

"That's just it, my lord… he's gone."

"Gone?"

"I don't understand it, sir – a ship just appeared in the middle of the corridor, and the hobbit fell through a suddenly-open door, and then it vanished again."

"But…" The Emperor felt an unknown feeling creeping through him. It took him several moments to recognize it as confusion. "But… that's impossible!"

"No sir," said the officer slightly wearily, "Just very, very improbable…"

-

Meanwhile, in Minas Tirith, the pirates were getting started on what promised to be an exceptionally rowdy party in the citadel.

"Come on, Jack," wheedled Will, "Let me sit on the throne for a bit."

Jack looked up from his tankard abruptly so that the paper crown he had made fell over his eyes. "I'll have you know," he said to a spot some two feet to Will's right, "that this throne is well-erved and long-desearned. When_ you _manage to topple the greatest city in a fandom, then _you _get to sit in the throne, savvy?"

"But I came up with the idea," protested Will, "I formulated the strategy. I fought most of the guards. I even opened the front door for you. What part did _you _play in all this?"

Jack pondered this for a while. "I made the crown," he said proudly.

"I found the real one," said Will, pulling out the silver circlet from his pocket, which Jack promptly snatched.

"Thangyouverymuch," he said, throwing away his paper crown and jamming the silver one on his head. Seeing Will's disappointed face though, he sighed and grumbled, "All right, fine, we'll share the throne. And you can have the paper crown."

Pirates rampaged throughout the city, looting everything from the houses and then looting each other. There was much drinking and merry-making, and after they came across a brewery, a fair bit of merry drink-making too. It promised to be a long, loud, highly enjoyable night, which sadly none of them would remember the morning after.

Elizabeth, meanwhile, was actually making the visit to Middle-earth worthwhile apart from just looting Aragorn's supply of elvish wine. She had taken it upon herself to extract information from Boromir in the only way she knew how…

"Pleeease tell me," she whined.

"No," said Boromir stubbornly.

"Awww, why nooot?"

"Well," mused Boromir, "You've invaded my home, and my fandom – you're trying to sabotage us in the NERD review – you're drinking all our beer and not wiping your feet when you go into the main hall – and as I am currently tied upside down suspended by my ankles from the White Tree, I'm not feeling too talkative."

"You're mean," pouted the upside-down Elizabeth. Suddenly her eyes brightened. "Hey – I can be mean too."

"Good for you."

"No – I can be mean, and MAKE you tell me how best to sabotage you!"

"Oh," said Boromir, inserting as much sarcasm as he could into his words, "dear."

"I will!" said Elizabeth sulkily, "You see if I don't!"

"I assure you," said Boromir, yawning, "that I am quaking in my very boots."

"Your boots are very what?"

"It's just for emphasis."

Elizabeth suddenly sighed sadly and sat down heavily on the ground. "It's so unfair."

Boromir suddenly felt his stomach clench in dread, though he wasn't sure why. "What is?"

Elizabeth looked at him, and took a deep breath. "All the people who like Pirates of the Caribbean just like it for Will and Jack, hardly _anyone _likes me, though I was trying to be this really cool gutsy heroine, but people just know me as the annoying girl who stole Will and Jack, which I don't think is very fair, because Will was in love with me, and Jack only showed interest on the island, which I STILL don't think was very appropriate, and as for Barbossa…"

As she continued to rant on, Boromir suddenly understood his stomach's dread. He had done the unthinkable – he had got a heroine started on moaning about her shortcomings. Suppressing a whimper, he struggled to break free from his ropes as her speech turned to her 'traumatizing' childhood.

The party continued to stagger its way through the night. So busy were the pirates with their righteous partying that none of them noticed three small figures wandering alongside the river where they had tethered their ships.

Very small figures.

"Ooh, where do you think all these ships came from?"

"Maybe the corsairs got confused. Timings are all thrown off because of the canon discrepancies, remember."

"They wouldn't miss just _one_, would they?"

"Aragorn _did _tell us to take a holiday…"

"Do you know how to steer a ship?"

"How hard can it be? Legolas managed it."

"A very good point. Hey, this one's got loads of apples!"

"All aboard!"

A few hours later, the sun rose over the Pelennor Fields and the city of Minas Tirith, where pirates lay dead to the world, and Elizabeth was still lamenting her troubles as Boromir considered chewing his own ankles off to get free.

The sunlight fell on Jack and Will, who were still slumped on the throne and somehow both wearing the crown (even I'm not sure how they managed it, but I'm sure it's a story worth hearing). The rays penetrated their eyelids and hit the back of their retinas, sending signals to their brains, which were angrily kicked out again and told to come back later, because who bothered people at this time of the morning when they were this drunk? I don't know. Photons nowadays.

Eventually, their brains succumbed to the photons' insistent ringing of the doorbell, stomped down the stairs and irritably greeted the new day.

Jack groaned, stretched and kicked Will off the throne onto the floor. "Go get the paper, there's a good boy," he mumbled, and snuggled deeper into the stone chair in the only way someone half-asleep can.

"Why do _you _want the paper?" grumbled Will, rubbing his head, an action which had no effect whatsoever on his throbbing headache, "Your only interest in current affairs is – is – you HAVE no interest in current affairs!"

"S'not true," mumbled Jack, head hanging over the chair arm, "I am interested in my current affair with a certain girl I saw last night…"

"Which one?"

"Errr," said Jack, "Well, one of them."

"Why do you want the paper?"

"Make hat," mumbled Jack, making strange 'shnirk'ing noises as he tried to get more comfortable, "Block out nasty sunlight."

Will groaned and staggered over to the doors, and threw them open, eliciting a moan of distress from Jack and his hangover-laden head as more sunlight poured into the room.

Will, however, was looking down at the river. "Er… Jack?"

"Wurrisit?"

"The Black Pearl's gone."

-

_Ebon Oleander Wenham – I doubt I got the part. See livejournal for details. Ah well. And I believe that in the heart of every Evil Overlord beats the heart of someone very petulant and pathetic._

_Pointy Ears Are My Thing – You don't like it? Fair enough. It was just a good fandom to add in at that moment and make Professor Rumansa's blood pressure go up a bit. The neutral fandom… (grin) Ahhh, that be the wonder of Discworld. I hope to fit it in more later. And why indeed would Evil Overlords lie? It's not like they've shown any evil characteristics in their behaviour… destroy countries, yes, enslave civilizations, yes, but LIE? Nooo, that's NAUGHTY…_

_SlashyKitty – Oooh, that's a good idea. What's DDR? The reason I always use Sonic is that I have a very special place in my heart for Sonic – it's the game I grew up playing. They're not playing the brand new shiny 3D games where there's loads of additional characters like Shadow and Amy or that vampire bat, they're playing the old-fashioned arcade versions… (nostalgic sigh)_

_xPussyWillowKittenx – Hurray for conspiracies! (sends out for Lembas pizza to celebrate)_

_Mousewolf – Ahhh… the big rat thing that can be taken out with one kick. And scratches in a very skilled way – not enough to disable Padme or cause severe blood loss, but just enough to tear the midriff off her top in an arty way._

_writeR – You don't win! I will NEVER be defeated! (grabs anti-hassling SPORK) HAVE AT YOU!_

_Kelly of the Midnight Dawn – Um, the only one of them I've heard of is Star Trek. I'm going to fit it in somewhere, but I need to do some research into it soon… I've only seen a few of the Captain Kirk episodes, and that was ages ago…_

_freakanature – Oooh! runs into kitchen and starts mashing potatoes So THAT'S what you do with them! I never knew… I have all these spare compliments underneath my bed… WASTED!_

_Satanira – You could also try checking Bespin. They seem to feel the need to pour out loads of it whenever they're carbon-freezing someone._

_Eowyn Skywalker – Death is one of TEH AWESOMEST CHARACTERS, LYK, EVA. Mort is my favourite Discworld book so far (I'm up to Wyrd Sisters, reading my way through them steadily…) and we might be performing the play of it at my drama club! Though I'm not sure anyone could play Death properly… Everyone's telling me to add Artemis Fowl, so I probably will sooner or later, and I want to throw in a cameo from the Princess Bride because I love it so much. And the Luggage will definitely be turning up sooner or later – I couldn't have Death and not the Luggage… As for wooden horses… (grin) BIG wooden horses._

_Alea Seikou – I really want to get in Inu Yasha somewhere. I do love that dog demon boy. Though I've only read book 8, because my sister's leant her others to one of her friends… mutter mutter grumble_

_Kamineko – I have to get Harry and the others out of the forest first. Not quite sure how I'm going to do that. (sudden inspiration) Hang on… (grin slowly spreads across face)_


	12. Chapter 12

_Sorry this chapter is a bit short, but a) I'm very busy again (dammit!) with Latin and English essays and b) I'm rapidly running out of chapters. In fact, I only have one left. I will get writing, though, as soon as my essays are done. And I won't be able to update for the next week, because I'm going to New York with my mum to shop, see Spamalot and Wicked, and various other things. glee Hope to see you when I get back!_

**Chapter 12**

For a short time after Obi-Wan, Anakin, Padme, Yoda and various other characters had left the Prequel Trilogy, the remaining people had been at a bit of a loss as to what to do. When a story's plot continuum is interrupted – for example, by most of the main characters leaving – the story tries to continue, dithers a bit, and then goes and crawls under a rock until someone sorts it out.

That someone, in this case, happened to be a certain Ranger and Elf, out for revenge. And they were only keen on tempting the story out from under the rock so that they could kick it about a bit.

Sadly, the poor unsuspecting story didn't know this. So when two young men turned up at the Jedi Temple, pronouncing themselves as Jedi from the Planet Gondwood, it eagerly leapt upon them and welcomed them with a large hug. It noticed they weren't from around there, of course, but it was just so happy to have some protagonists that it didn't tell anyone else.

So, shortly after their arrival, Aragorn and Legolas were dressed in Jedi robes, and sitting in Obi-Wan and Yoda's seats on the Jedi Council – and no-one paid much attention.

Except Mace Windu. He had never been bound too tightly by the plot – allowed to have a purple lightsaber, given the freedom to 'defeat' the most powerful Sith of the time when even Yoda was defeated later on (this was a phenomenon discussed in whispers in the corners of the Jedi Temple, but blamed on the Force, as everything was) – and so had the better ability to see it for what it was.

So he was, understandably, a little suspicious of these two strangers, calling themselves Aragolas and Legorn, who had appeared from nowhere and seemed intent on 'changing a few things'.

"We think Jar-Jar Binks should be made head of the Jedi Council," said Aragolas perfectly seriously.

Before Mace Windu could comment, Legorn immediately proclaimed, "I agree with Aragolas! Jar-Jar Binks has untapped potential in the Force. He must be a Jedi."

Mace Windu stared from the ranger to the elf. "Put… that Gungan… more into the public eye? He was only in Episode 2 for a few minutes, and people still hated him! We had to gag him throughout Episode 3!"

"I think the public just need to see Jar-Jar more," said Legorn, "They'll grow to love him."

"We also ought to make Anakin turn good right at the end of Episode 3," said Aragolas before Mace could protest, "The people in the Watching Dimensions won't want their hero suddenly turning dark, brooding and angsty at the end. He ought to stay devoted to Padme and firmly on the side of good!"

"But… what about him becoming Darth Vader?" said Mace Windu weakly.

Aragolas and Legorn looked at each other. "Hmmm," observed Legorn.

"Hmmm," agreed Aragolas.

"Hmmmm," concurred the rest of the Jedi council.

"I don't suppose we could change episodes 4-6?" wondered Aragolas, "Stop them being the rebels trying to defeat the Empire, and instead have it be the story of Anakin, having overcome the Dark Side, spending many happy years in peace and prosperity with little Luke and Leia? Perhaps going on treasure hunts, or pod racing maybe?"

Before Mace Windu could collapse in shock, another Jedi said apologetically, "I'm sorry, Master Aragolas, but that would be too much strain on the plot. It could completely disintegrate, and we have no idea what effect that could have. We already have enough plot holes littering the Galaxy…"

Aragolas raised an eyebrow. "Ohh, really?"

"Oh yes. Some quite large ones, actually-"

"Although," interrupted Mace Windu, "precise information on them is restricted to major characters."

The rest of the Jedi council looked confused, as though not sure why Aragolas and Legorn were excluded from this category. Mace Windu, with sinking heart, noticed the tell-tale signs of something being accepted into the plotline, even though they didn't have much purpose there – he'd seen it before with Jar-Jar Binks, who had accidentally wandered in from somewhere extremely odd, but had been accepted before anyone could say, "What's with your voice?"

And, if this was anything like Jar-Jar Binks, this was not a good thing.

"So we can't make too big a change," said Aragolas thoughtfully, "Hmmmm."

"Hmmm," agreed Legorn, "Hmmm… Maybe Anakin could have an evil twin?"

"That could work," said Aragolas, stroking his beard, "And when Anakin remains on the side of good, and triumphs against the Dark Side…"

"… we can put in Anakin's evil twin being Darth Vader at the last minute!" finished Legorn, "Genius!"

"And we can fit in more of a love story with him and Padme, too! Everyone loves shots of them frolicking," said Aragolas, beaming, "We'd have to find someone to pretend to be Anakin's evil twin, though…"

Mace Windu slumped back in his seat as all the other Jedi masters joined in debating who could fill the role, and suggested having auditions. For that moment, he was exactly like all the other characters in Star Wars, and fitted into the plot perfectly.

He had a very, very bad feeling about this…

As the Sonic the Hedgehog tournament entered its eighth consecutive hour, and the elves rang out for Lembas pizza for the fourth time, Elrond realized it was time to take matters into his own hands.

Of course, he didn't know that members of his fandom were already taking action. He didn't know that Aragorn and Legolas were currently trying to make Star Wars implode on itself, or that the hobbits were sailing (badly) straight towards the Caribbean – to him, all hopes for the future of Middle-earth or having the west wing of Rivendell renovated depended on whether Leiagorn continued to beat Faramir hands down at Sonic.

It was time, he decided, to send people to the Watching Dimensions.

But the problem was, no-one was left. All the main characters were either MIA or attacking Robotnik's latest ship with a two-tailed fox while stuffing themselves with cheesy Lembas bread.

He considered contacting Sauron to ask for help, but then, on reflection, decided that Ringwraiths weren't the best people to send to convince people to like them. To inspire terror into the hearts of men, certainly, but marketing? Not so good.

"DAMN BUG THINGS!" he heard Faramir bellow.

"Oh look," observed Leiagorn, "I've beaten you. Again. Is it a sickness you have, or something?"

"It's those damn bug things!" moaned Faramir, throwing down the handset, "They keep popping out of nowhere."

"Aww, schnookie," said Leiagorn with a grin, ruffling his hair, and then waving the handset. "Any challengers?"

There was an awkward silence as everyone looked at each other. "None at all?" said Leiagorn, "Well, then…"

"I'll take that challenge," said a voice from the back of the room. All turned their heads to see Arwen, who stepped forward to the handset with a look on her face that suggested if this were a real battle, instead of a computer game, her opponent was due for serious pain.

Leiagorn's eyes narrowed. "Arwen…"

"That's Arwen?" said Aragorn incredulously, "Bloody hell, she's HOT!"

Arwen and Leiagorn both shot him murderous glares. Aragorn swiftly looked over his shoulder and said in an innocent voice, "Who said that?"

"Nice try," said Arwen and Leiagorn, and immediately turned back to look at each other.

"So you're this fandom's tough brunette princess who the rugged hero falls in love with," said Leiagorn, eyes narrowing.

"Er," said Arwen, raising an eyebrow, "Yes, yes I am. Got a problem with that?"

"No, actually," said Leiagorn, abruptly switching to a sunny smile, "Because a fair few fans of Lord of the Rings hate you. But I – I mean, Princess Leia - is beloved by all Star Wars fans."

"Princess Leia?" said Arwen disbelievingly, "It's only because she got into a gold bikini. I got fans without having to strip off."

There was a funny crunching noise from the handset in Leiagorn's hands. "No," said Leiagorn, "I suppose you didn't. You only had to completely twist the plot so that you got screentime and act completely out of character."

Arwen's eyes narrowed also. Most of the people in the room held their breath nervously. Aragorn's eyes went from the elf to the ranger as if he could scarcely believe his luck.

Arwen took a deep breath. "Let's play," she said.

Elrond decided this was time to make an abrupt exit. He walked away along the balcony, looking down at the waterfall. What Leiagorn had said had given him an idea. When he had sent out the invitations to the Council, he had concentrated mainly on characters made famous by the films.

But what about the forgotten book characters?... He pulled out his phone and dialled in a number. At the same time, he waved over a passing elf.

"Excuse me, Erestor – could you go and fetch my sons for me?"

-

_Pointy Ears Are My Thing – Ahhh. That would explain a lot. There are currently investigations going on into just what Yoda Pop is made from…_

_Ebon Oleander Wenham – Hmmmm… I'm sure I could fit them in somewhere… (grin)_

_Mousewolf – Ah, yes, well, erm… (hears plot hole opening in story) It's because it's elvish wine! More potent than normal rum. (plot hole closes) (sighs with relief)_

_writeR – Har-HAR! (lunges with anti-hassling spork) You cannot defeat my novelty cutlery!_

_xPussyWillowKittenx – No, it's some people from another fandom… you'll find out soon enough._

_Freakanature – Fear not! I am making many Compliment Cookies! I shall eat them all in New York!_

_SlashyKitty – Oh, of course… hmmm… must have that appear somewhere then. And I'm going to try to keep it to things which appeared in the radio series, the books AND the films… I don't like to show favouritism._

_Satanira – Hello, Gil. Er, what's Satanira up to?_

_Kelly of the midnight dawn – You don't need to apologize. I'm just deprived of most American shows, having only four TV channels. And I might need your help with Star Trek, as it seems inevitable I'm going to have to fit it in somewhere, so I'll let you know!_

_Aleon – OK! waits for you to finish reading_

_Eowyn Skywalker – I finally finished Wyrd Sisters! (loffs it) Next up is Pyramids. I will try to fit in as many fandoms as possible, but I'm trying to keep it RELATIVELY simple…_

_A. Leon – SHINY SQUIRREL? WHERE? A Mary-Sue is an original female character who is utterly utterly perfect, are normally a princess or sorceress of some kind who the main character falls in love with, and disrupts the canon of a story. They should be considered armed and dangerous. And fans are going to get involved… but probably not on here, as doesn't like non-story characters in fanfics. I'll probably keep those chapters to my website._


	13. Chapter 13

_Sorry for the long delay. My essays are DONE, and sent off to various universities to fool them into offering me a place, and I actually have a free weekend ahead of me… it's a very strange feeling… Anyway, here's the next chapter. Chapter 13… it's certainly unlucky for one person…_

**Chapter 13**

Hogwarts was in trouble again. Surprised?

Chaos was seeping unstoppably through the school like red wine on a wedding dress. Dumbledore found out that during his absence several students from wealthy families, including Draco Malfoy, had mysteriously vanished. Witnesses had described seeing a man with one eyebrow, though Dumbledore had never heard of such a wizard. Also, the house-elves had moved on from talking in musical voices to adapting their pillowcases into beautiful flowing robes, and they had started composing long epic poems about their lives. He had even caught one trying to make a ring.

But the strangest thing of all was that most of the students in Harry's year had also vanished – except for Harry, Ron and Hermione, who looked strangely furtive and, in Ron's case, extremely short. Dumbledore caught Professor Rumansa staring at them with wide disbelieving eyes and muttering under his breath, and seemed to have a lot of empty elvish wine bottles around his office.

But if Dumbledore was having problems, they were nothing compared to Professor Rumansa's.

First of all, he wasn't very happy at his lack of success. Secondly, Sauron wasn't very happy at his lack of success.

Thirdly, a certain Dark wizard wasn't very happy that he was even trying.

"Hello," said a voice behind him when he entered his study.

Professor Rumansa span round so quickly his white beard flared out and his fake glasses-and-moustache flew off, and found that Voldemort was sitting next to his fire, looking more than a little annoyed. Of course, he didn't know that it was Voldemort, but it was probably lucky that he didn't mention that, considering Voldemort's self-esteem was already dangerously low.

Because before he could ask, he noticed someone standing behind him. Darth Vader.

"No, you're doing it all wrong," said Darth Vader in an exasperated way, "Yes, the sitting-silently-then-suddenly-noticed thing was good, but what sort of threatening greeting is 'hello'? Did you even watch 'The Empire Strikes Back' like I told you to?"

"Yes, I-" began Voldemort.

"It's all about _presence!_ You call yourself a Dark Lord?"

"I – I-"

"Hang your head in _shame_!"

Voldemort hung his head in shame. Professor Rumansa looked at the two of them in confusion.

"Hello there," said Darth Vader, "Sauron sends his regards, and says he hopes you get a move on. Before long, Dumbledore's going to notice what's going on."

"Can I stop hanging my head now?" said Voldemort to his chest.

"I suppose so," said Darth Vader. Voldemort sighed in relief and lifted his head. "Uh-uh! That sounded like a sign of _weakness! _Never show your enemy that you feel discomfort! Hang your head in shame!"

"But you've been making me hang my head in shame for hours already today," cried Voldemort, "I think my spine is becoming curved!"

"HANG IT!" said Vader threateningly. Voldemort moaned and let his head fall to his chest. Professor Rumansa thought he heard a click.

"Uh," said Professor Rumansa, "Er – what do you want?"

"Not me," said Darth Vader, slapping the top of Voldemort's bald head, "This ignoramus here."

"That hurt," whimpered Voldemort.

"Get a backbone, will you?"

"I do. I think it's being irreparably damaged."

"Shhhh. You're not learning. Now, let's just stand here in silence while you THINK about what it MEANS to be a Dark Wizard. I mean, why didn't you just become a florist? THAT seems to be more your area."

"I get bad hayfever," mumbled Voldemort.

"SHHHT! Complete silence."

They stood in silence for a moment.

_Saruman?_

"AARGH!" yelled Professor Rumansa, "What was that?"

"Nothing," said Darth Vader hurriedly.

"What was what?" asked Voldemort, raising his head.

"HEAD DOWN!" boomed Darth Vader, shoving his head back down.

"I swore I heard something," said Professor Rumansa confusedly, while Voldemort screamed, "My vertebrae! My beautiful reincarnated vertebrae!" "Like… someone talking to me in my head…"

_That was me, dumbass. Darth Vader._

"Ooooh, that was YOU?" said Professor Rumansa, "I didn't know you could talk in people's heads! Can all Sith do that?"

"I wasn't talking in your head," said Darth Vader innocently.

"Why were you talking in his head?" asked Voldemort.

"No idea," shrugged Professor Rumansa.

"I WASN'T," said Darth Vader firmly, over-pronounciating each syllable, "talking in your head."

"Yes you were," said Professor Rumansa.

"NO. I. WASN'T."_ Stop saying that, you idiot!_

"You did it again!" said Professor Rumansa eagerly, and then frowned. "Was calling me an 'idiot' really necessary?"

Darth Vader sighed and smacked his mask with his hand, making a _THONK _noise.

"What are you talking about?" asked Voldemort.

"Nothing Theresa," said Darth Vader quickly, "Now, Saru – Professor Rumansa – listen to me – and watch me wink. OK? I am NOT – TALKING – TO – YOU – IN – YOUR – HEAD."

"I can't see you winking, you're wearing a weird mask for some reason."

A strange rumbling noise came from Darth Vader's chest, and his gloves creaked as he clenched his fists.

"Er," said Voldemort, "I just heard you say, '_Stop saying I'm talking to you in your head, Saruman!' _in my head."

"Oh, sorry," said Darth Vader, "Wrong person. Ignore that. Don't raise your head!"

Voldemort groaned and returned his chin to his chest. "Are you talking about me?"

"Yes, I'm telling him that you're a disgrace," said Darth Vader in such a way Professor Rumansa was sure he was rolling his eyes behind his helmet, "But I was being discreet for your benefit, since you already act like such a girl I was worried you'd start crying on us. And while I know how important it is for working women to be able to express their feelings in this horrible man-driven world, this cape is dry-clean only so I'd prefer you didn't use it as a hanky, thank you very much."

"That's harsh," observed Professor Rumansa, slightly awed.

"Only way he'll learn."

_Listen, you half-assed attempt at Evil Overlord homework, I AM talking in your head, but DON'T REACT!_

Professor Rumansa, who had been about to jump into the air in surprise, tried to stop himself and ended up falling over sideways. "OW!"

"Why did you do that?" asked Voldemort curiously.

"Er – nervous twitch."

_There's a good wizard. Now listen, Saruman, I'm talking in your head for a reason. Now act nonchalant so Voldemorina here doesn't suspect anything._

Professor Rumansa settled his gaze firmly on a corner of the ceiling, frowned slightly and started humming quietly to himself.

_That's nonchalant?_

_I haven't had much practice! _thought back Professor Rumansa in an annoyed way, _I don't generally have much cause to._

_Ohh, careful there, Dumber-dledore, that sounded like you were SNAPPING at me. You weren't, were you?_

… _No, sir…_

_Good good. Now listen up, Sarumanicure. I'm PRETENDING to be encouraging towards Tommabell here, to be 'honing his skills as a Dark Lord so that THAT BOY can be eliminated once and for all' – but REALLY I'm breaking his confidence and, eventually, and sense of self-worth, down into small bitesize chunks to feed to the Gungans, until he just loses the will to be evil. And suddenly the hero has nothing to be heroic against. Goodbye fanverse._

"That is SMART!" said Professor Rumansa in amazement.

"What is?" asked Voldemort.

"… Ceilings! Aren't they just incredible? I mean, otherwise there'd only be one floor in every house, and everyone would get wet when it rained." Voldemort lifted his eyes and stared at him. "Remarkable things," continued Professor Rumansa, "Where WOULD we be without them?"

_Smooth. I can see where you got your title 'The Wise' from._

_Scchnnnyeeerr. What do you want me to do, anyway?_

_Just defeat Voldemort at every turn. Send him crying back to his snake. Oh – and start wreaking better havoc here. I mean, vanishing students? Pitiful. You can do better._

_They were canon-important students._

_What do you want, a cookie? I want MAYHEM!_

_Fine, fine._

Darth Vader nodded. "All right," he said to Voldemort, "Now that we're done contemplating silently what a disgrace you are, you can say what you came here to say."

Voldemort stood up, straightening his neck and successfully suppressing a whimper, though Professor Rumansa heard the tell-tale crack as his vertebrae slipped back into place with a disgruntled sigh of relief.

"Ahem," he said, and quickly settled his face into his classic expression, whose eyes said, 'I'm going to bring pain and crushing doom on you, very very soon', and the eyebrows said, 'But you have a chance to make your death quick and relatively painless, IF I'm feeling nice.' "I hear that you've been trying to dispose of a certain boy called Harry Potter."

"Um," said Professor Rumansa, "Well, kinda."

"Ah," said Voldemort, drawing himself slightly taller – more vertebrae slipped into place – "Well, I think that you ought to know that _I_ have been trying to dispose of Harry Potter for several years now. Since he was _born_, actually."

"Oh. Um. That's nice."

"Not really. Because I have _always _been thwarted. Can you even _begin _to _imagine _how _frustrating_ that is?"

"I can start to," said Professor Rumansa slightly nervously, "considering about half that last sentence was in italics."

"Oh yes," hissed Voldemort, causing all snakes within a two mile radius to perk their heads up, "I am feeling _very _italicizedright now… and do you know _why _I'm feeling _particularly _italicized?"

"I have a feeling you're going to tell me…"

"The _reason _I'm feeling _particularly _italicized is that after _I_ have failed for _quite_ a _few_ years – most of those being spent in a _forest_ in _Albania_ – some _upstart _of a _wizard _comes along and thinks _he_ can just _steal _my_ idea_!"

Professor Rumansa nervously took a step back. "Um," he said, "… sorry?"

"So you _should _be," said Voldemort angrily, "So _don't do it again!_"

"OK, that's a little too much italics," commented Darth Vader.

"Really? I was just going with the moment-"

"No, planning is the key. Planning. For example, whose clever idea was it to have the Triwizard Cup being a two-way Portkey? I mean, honestly? And couldn't you have set up some kind of magical barrier in the graveyard? All these simple plans could have stopped Harry escaping for the – what was it – third time?"

"Second," said Voldemort defensively, but his shoulders were slumping again, "Once, it was only my memory."

"Ah," said Darth Vader, leaving a long pause, just long enough to show that he didn't think this was much of an excuse, and then said briskly, "Come along now, things to do…"

The two of them got up and headed for the door. Just as Voldemort reached it, Darth Vader snapped, "Don't leave without some sort of last threat!"

"I thought the silent, dignified exit was best?"

"No, no – that's best for when visiting prisoners for torture, meeting heroes unexpectedly, or leaving to complete some sort of dastardly scheme. When meeting for threatening, or possibly informing someone that you have a friend of theirs prisoner, THAT'S when you make some sort of threat before leaving! I can see this is going to take a lot of work…"

Professor Rumansa – who I will now start calling Saruman, as you _really _should have guessed by now – listened to them bickering all the way down the corridor. It briefly occurred to him that it was a little strange that not only the most wanted evil wizard in that fandom at that time had managed to enter Hogwarts unnoticed, but he was accompanied by an evil Sith Lord as well, who was known for killing children.

This small recognition was replaced by the overwhelming realization that he WAS bad at being nonchalant. Maybe that was how Gandalf guessed he'd turned evil so quickly?...

-

_Mousewolf – Heeheehee. Funnily enough, this isn't the first time I've been called a Mary-Sue – I think it's the blonde hair, blue eyes and fondness for swords and cloaks. And I can't take credit for the "Damn bug things!" – my friend kept yelling it when we were having our own Sonic tournament the other day. Seriously, they come out of nowhere! Just when you've got a load of rings, too! (falls to muttering angry curses and foretelling doom on all bug things)_

_freakanature – You are a lovely kind person who fills me with warm fuzzies! There, you can make your own compliment cakes now! _

_Bev Baudelaire – Thanks! Constructive criticism is good, but I gotta love the compliments._

_SlaskyKitty – I'm sure similar thoughts are in Han Solo's head right now…_

_xPussyWillowKittenx – I'm a big fan of the Brothers El, and I've actually been trying to fit them into a story for a long time… wasted opportunity in the film. Just imagine, double elvish prettiness!_

_technetium – It is a little known fact that it is extremely difficult to get your hands on waffles in that galaxy far, far away… _

_writeR – HARHAR! Novelty cutlery will rule the world!_

_Satanira – Hokay… starting to get a bit nervous now… why was she gathering all these things again?_

_Pointy Ears Are My Thing – Erm… getting creepy… _

_LEDlorien7 – Thanks very much! I'm on the lookout for a unicorn journal myself._

_Kamineko – Hey, I like Elizabeth too – she's much better than most heroines of late. And Norrington is great too. But I do empathise with Hermione though, because she is scarily similar to me… And I don't think ANYONE falls on their behind quite as stylishly as Han Solo. Not even Frodo, and he's had enough practice. And that walk-off idea is great… better get plotting… (evil cackle)_

_Liyina – That's great to hear! Thanks!_

_Chibi Kawaii Miko – Let me think… Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Harry Potter, the Matrix, Discworld, Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Pirates of the Caribbean, Series of Unfortunate Events… erm… I think that's it… but there are more coming… (fiendish giggle) I might write more crossovers, but I think this one's enough to be dealing with right now! _


	14. Chapter 14

_Sorry I haven't updated for a while, but I've been very busy – I had an interview, I went to Rome, then I got ill. And also had various other stories demanding that I write them instead. Anyway, sorry, but here's a nice relatively large chapter as a Christmas present._

**Chapter 14**

Frodo opened his eyes and realized that he was a potato.

Needless to say, this was an extremely odd feeling, and he was glad when he changed back to normal, even though his feet seemed to have turned into ducks when he wasn't looking.

"_Seven hundred and twenty-three thousand, four hundred and forty-two to one and falling…"_

He then noticed that he was currently in a large thimble filled with cheez-whizz, floating on top of a picnic table. In the distance he thought he could see some rabbits dressed as leprechauns doing the Macarena, and some blue fluffy creatures devouring a pile of chocolate brownies while floating through cauliflowers.

That's not right, he thought. Surely he had just been on his way to the Death Star public bathroom?

"_Four hundred and eighty-nine thousand, eight hundred and thirty-nine to one and falling…"_

The realization slowly dawned on him that he had never made it there – a strange ship had suddenly appeared, he had fallen through a suddenly open door which closed behind him. And now he was on board this ship.

"_Two hundred and thirteen thousand, five hundred and eight to one and falling…"_

That wasn't what concerned him though. The problem was that, having never made it to the bathroom, he had a rapidly increasing need to find a toilet…

Up in the cockpit of the Heart of Gold, Trillian paused in her countdown and stared at the screen. "Er, guys?"

No-one replied at first. Arthur was searching through the Guide, determined to find somewhere in the Galaxy which served tea (denial wasn't just a river in Egypt. Well, it wasn't even that any more); Ford was perusing a towel catalogue; and Zaphod had discovered a three-hour special on him on MTV 342, and was currently basking in his ego. And Marvin… well, he certainly wasn't skipping about making daisy chains.

"Guys?" repeated Trillian more loudly, "Frodo Baggins is in the Improbability Drive."

They all looked up.

"Who?" said Ford in bewilderment.

"Isn't he a wizard?" asked Arthur, frowning.

"They're looking at my childhood!" said Zaphod gleefully, "Trying to figure out where it all went wrong."

"Probably when the nurse said you were cute," said Ford, "First initiated the idea that all women adore you."

"_Most_ do…"

"Er," interrupted Trillian loudly, "Frodo Baggins is actually the main character in 'The Lord of the Rings'. He was declared missing on FandomNet a few hours ago."

"So how did he end up here?" said Ford in confusion.

"Probably some incredible series of events…. But mainly because of the Improbability Drive."

"Man," said Zaphod, shaking his heads, "We really out to stop using that thing…"

"Ohh, but it's fun!" said Ford in horror, "Remember when we left Marvin in there? He grew fur!"

"Oh yeah…" grinned Zaphod reminiscently.

"Should we send Marvin to get him?" suggested Arthur.

"No – he just watched 'It's a Wonderful Life'. Asking him to do such a menial task might just push him over the edge."

"Get going, monkey man," said Zaphod. Arthur sighed and trudged off to the Improbability Drive.

"Marvin must be the only person who interprets 'It's a Wonderful Life' as a tragic overview of how we're all in denial that our lives are pointless, and will conjure up fantasies to distract us from our ever-approaching inevitable deaths," observed Ford.

"Well, I don't think it was the message the studios were going for," said Trillian.

Meanwhile, Frodo was staggering out of the Improbability Drive, checking that he wasn't a lawn ornament. For a few tense seconds he thought that he might still have some porcelain toes, but then he realized everything was all right, and breathed a sigh of relief – and also breathed out a small carrot. Not _completely _recovered from the Improbability Drive, then.

"Ahem."

Frodo span round to see Arthur Dent standing behind him. Still in his dressing gown.

"Hello," said Frodo, "I'm Frodo Baggins."

"I certainly hope so," said Arthur, "I wouldn't personally want any more hobbits down here. Just one's enough to be dealing with. I'm Arthur Dent. Aren't you the hero of the 'Lord of the Rings' fandom?"

"Er," said Frodo, "I guess so. And you?"

"Apparently, hero of the 'Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy' fandom. Though I don't feel like I did anything particularly heroic."

Frodo smiled. "I thought so. You had the air of an 'everyman hero of classic English fandom' about you."

"Really?"

"Oh yes."

Arthur smiled slightly too. "How do you feel about tea?"

-

Given that Sam, Merry and Pippin's previous sailing experience consisted mainly of sitting in the Lorien boats while the others rowed, it was a miracle they could make the Black Pearl move at all. But against all odds, as the sun rose over the ocean, illuminating the whole world gold and pink, the Black Pearl's sails were full and the ship rode the waves towards lands unknown.

This was good enough for the hobbits. But what made it absolutely wonderful was the discovery that one of the cabins was absolutely packed with apples.

"I've never been on a proper holiday before," said Pippin, "and I think I like it."

"I don't blame Frodo for sailing to the Undying Lands," agreed Merry, "Do you think they had lots of apples on their voyage too?"

"Not sure," mused Sam, throwing a core over the side of the ship and reaching for another, "Do elves like apples much?"

"They certainly didn't have enough of them around Rivendell," said Merry slightly morosely, "I ate their entire supply within a few hours. And their carrots. And-"

"Speaking of the Undying Lands," said Pippin suddenly, "do you think that's where we're headed?"

"No idea," shrugged Sam, "The ship seems to know where it's going."

The ship did, indeed, know where it was going. Like the Star Wars Fanverse, the Pirates of the Caribbean Fanverse was dithering slightly without its protagonists. So when it sensed that the Black Pearl had crew again, it accepted them without question and steered the ship back to the shores of the Caribbean, like one gathers a large pile of chocolates towards one's side of the table so that no-one else can steal any.

However, just as the sun was setting on another profound day of eating apples and occasionally trying to learn how to steer the ship, something rather odd happened.

The ship struck something invisible, and stopped.

Due to the hobbits' lack of concern with where the ship went, it took them a few minutes to realize that the ship wasn't moving anymore.

"Hang a tick," said Pippin suddenly, "We're not moving. That's not right, is it?"

"I'm guessing," said Sam, looking up at the still-full sails straining to push the ship forward through the unseen barrier, and the waves crashing onto the back of the ship, "no."

"Oh," said Merry.

They sat there in silence for a minute.

"Why do you suppose we've stopped?" queried Merry.

"Hazarding a guess," said Sam, "I'd say we're stuck on an invisible barrier of some sort."

"Oh," repeated Pippin.

There was another silence.

"What kind of invisible barrier?" asked Pippin.

"Why do you keep asking me?" said Sam, "I don't know."

The three hobbits got up to investigate the invisible barrier. A moment later, they realized this was completely pointless, as they couldn't see it. However Pippin, who had learnt precisely nothing from the mission to destroy the Ring about not touching things he didn't understand, reached out and prodded it with one finger.

The sound of a doorbell echoed across the ocean.

Before the hobbits could even blink in surprise, a small piece of paper about the size of a business card appeared in a flash of light and fluttered down onto the deck at their feet.

THEN they blinked in surprise.

"What's that?" said Merry.

Sam picked it up and read the writing on it aloud. '_Please present passes for admission into Pirates of the Caribbean Fanverse.'_

"Passes?" said Pippin blankly.

Sam remembered the passes which Aragorn had given them, and pulled them out of his pocket. Uncertainly, he pushed them towards the barrier.

They vanished in another flash of light. From that same flash of light fluttered down another little business card, which Sam caught in the air.

'_Thank you. Enjoy your stay.'_

Before Sam, Merry and Pippin could comment on this odd turn of events, the invisible barrier vanished – though they didn't know that – and the wind, feeling annoyed at being challenged, blew the ship at full speed through it, and into the fandom beyond, so fiercely that the hobbits were knocked off their feet, and they fell heavily back down onto the deck.

They lay there still for a moment, staring up at the sky, in varying degrees of shock, feeling the waves toss the ship to and fro like an unenthusiastic game of Frisbee. It was several moments before Merry thought of an appropriate comment.

"What," he said slowly, "the heck was that all about?"

-

In Rivendell, the battle raged on. Leia and Arwen's Sonic Tournament was at a stalemate, and had now moved onto best of 39, and the elves had set up a standing order with the Lembas Pizza Delivery Service.

Elrond, however, had assembled as many of the popular book characters as he could. Haldir, Elladan, Elrohir, Beregond, Theodred (alive again and most happy about it), Imrahil, Halbarad, Quickbeam, Rosie Cotton, Thorin Oakenshield, Radagast the Brown – even Tom Bombadil and Goldberry.

"Elves – men – dwarves – hobbits -" he began, "Istari - Ents-"

"Treebeard presents his apologies," said Quickbeam, "He would have liked to have been here, but he's still leading the Entmoot. Some of the Ents wanted to show photos from their latest holidays, so there's no knowing how long it will last."

"That's quite all right," said Elrond hurriedly, "Anyway, as I was saying – the situation is becoming desperate. Some of our main characters are missing; most of the others are distracted-" They heard a loud cheer from the Games Room, and Leia yelling, "Best of 41! Best of 41!" Elrond shivered slightly. "There is something amiss in Middle-earth," he said gravely, "Something is working against us. There may already be operatives from other fandoms here, plotting our downfall. Which is why I have called all you here."

"Don't worry, Father," said Elrohir with a grin, "We've been waiting a long time for this."

"I know you have," said Elrond, "Now, I have tasks for all of you. Theodred, Imrahil, Halbarad, Goldberry – I want you to go to the Watching Dimensions, and try some marketing. Tom Bombadil will try to come up with a jingle."

"_Lord of the Rings, tis a fabby old fandom, its morals are deep and its ending random-_"

"Thank you, Master Bombadil, but that'll be fine. Now – Rosie, Beregond, Gildor, Dain – I want you to send the message to the rest of your races to keep an eye out for strange happenings. Radagast, Quickbeam – ask the animals and the trees. Haldir, Elladan, Elrohir…" Elrond sighed heavily. "Yours is a very important mission. We must find Frodo and the others. I need you to infiltrate other Fanverses and try to find them."

Haldir nodded. "That'll be fine. But we'll need passes."

Elrond, for the first time in his life, looked quite devious. "No we won't. I recently received word from Aragorn and Legolas. They are fine, and in the Star Wars Fanverse. They got there through a plot hole, caused by a Mary-Sue. That's how everyone else is accessing each other's Fanverses. There ought to be enough for you all to get into all Fanverses – Eru knows there are enough crossovers out there…"

"But…" said Haldir, "That's illegal."

One of Elrond's eyebrows arched. "The other Fanverses can't know that you're there. This is the only way. Besides, it's self-defence," he added innocently.

Elrohir grinned. "That's fine with me."

"Wait a moment," said Halbarad, "Aragorn and Legolas are OK?"

"Yes."

"They're both in the Star Wars Universe?"

"Yes."

"Then – who's that in there cheering on Arwen and Leiagorn?"

Elrond grinned. This was a strange occurrence – several elves all grinning at once. "That's what I aim to find out while you're gone…"

It is a little-known but quickly-learned-when-it-happens-to-you lesson – never mess with elves.

-

_freakanature – I didn't like the way they did Voldemort in the film. He scampered a bit too much. Not to mention his wonderful interpretive dance at one point. He is not worthy of comparison to Darth Vader and Sauron!_

_xPussyWillowKittenx – It ought to be interesting, at least… (evil grin)_

_Mousewolf – That is a genius list. I can try to mention it somewhere._

_Ebon Oleander Wenham – I have no idea why I didn't thank you for your review. Utterly utterly apologetic. THANK YOU THANK YOU._

_SlashyKitty – I'm wondering whether there's a school Dark Lords have to go through before they get their licence…_

_Satanira – HAH! Carrots won't work! My Wob-Wobs only eat vegetables if there aren't even any sofas available. But my Ninja Wob-Wobs cannot be distracted!_

_writeR – Oh… er… um… well… I have TWO SPORKS!_

_Kelly of the midnight dawn – The only way I'm able to keep writing this is I'm not taking it very seriously, to be honest… as soon as I start worrying about making a story good, I can't write it. I have no idea what's going to happen next, I'm just letting the characters fight it out. All I have to do is remember what everyone's doing. Ahhh. Nice relaxing story._

_Have a nice Christmas!_


	15. Chapter 15

_Sorry I haven't updated for a while – I've had homework, influenza virus B, university visits, and been in a panto where I wore one of THE MOST unflattering outfits EVER and had to cheerleading and extremely bad mathematics. Euuuurgh. Anyway, here's another chapter, and it starts off with a nice recap of what's going on in the story! How convenient! Oh, and I have written some things that are going on in the Watching Dimensions, but I can't put them on here lest the story be taken down for being real person based – they're on my website, so you can find them there… no, this isn't a scheme to get people to join… (innocent look)_

**Chapter 15**

Galadriel stood at her mirror, watching certain interesting events taking place across Middle-earth. Beregond was riding towards Minas Tirith from Ithilien with groups of Rangers, and had already caught sight of the pirate flag flying from the citadel. Rosie Cotton seemed to be interviewing a small hobbit girl who was excitedly telling her about a large man in a black outfit who breathed funny. Elladan, Elrohir and Haldir were arming themselves against Mary-Sues for their attempts to breach plot holes.

Really, she ought, it was all going rather well. She turned her attention to other Fanverses to see how they would respond and, more importantly, to provide a plot device so that the reader can get their bearings with what was going on.

Sam, Merry and Pippin were sailing into the Caribbean. Aragorn and Legolas were in the Prequel Star Wars Fanverse causing as much havoc as they could while auditioning for Anakin's Evil Twin. Figwit was still languishing in the depths of the Death Star, and his cell did NOT contain a mini-bar. The Death Star itself was trying to track the Heart of Gold, which was not very happy about this and zooming as fast as it could in the opposite direction, while Frodo and Arthur Dent conversed about tea.

Leia and Han Solo, she knew, were at Rivendell posing as Rangers – it was only a matter of time before they were discovered. Luke Skywalker seemed to be flying to Hogwarts… Darth Vader and Sauron seemed to have left Voldemort alone temporarily and were plotting their own evil deeds. They were both cackling, so it must be going well. She wondered where Yoda was in all of this, and turned her mirror to see Dagobah – but his house was empty.

She wondered whether he was in the Watching Dimensions, and briefly turned her mirror to look there. Oh dear – Count Dooku seemed to be addressing a group of LOTR fans who were under the impression he was Saruman. She would have to tell Elrond about that. Anakin was talking to high schools, Obi-Wan was mind-tricking random people in the street, and Padme seemed to be using her feminine charms to attract a larger audience – that, and appearing on chat shows in the gold bikini. But they wouldn't have the full focus of the public for long – already, she could see Theodred and the others arriving, along with many agents from the Matrix. It was about to get very interesting back there…

Meanwhile, Hogwarts seemed to be under the most duress: their main characters were still in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, and had been replaced by the Baudelaires; the DADA teacher had been replaced by Saruman; Voldemort was planning to overthrow the plot continuum, and Dumbledore had no idea. She frowned. How could that be possible? How could he not have noticed? Only the most inept wizard…

Something dawned on her. Everyone was getting from Fanverse to Fanverse far too easily –even with plot holes. It was as if this entire battle was being co-ordinated… and only one Fanverse could-

She never finished that thought. There was a flash of light, and then there was only a statue in the glade, a frozen expression of dawning horrified comprehension on her face. A tall figure glided past her and looked into the Mirror, and smiled.

-

On the Heart of Gold, Frodo was explaining his situation to the – well, 'crew', but I use that term in the loosest sense of the word.

"… so the Star Wars Fanverse seems to be going to any lengths to keep themselves at the top of the NERD fanlists," he said, "and it, erm, well, it doesn't seem very fair."

"Certainly doesn't," said Arthur in outrage – the British place great importance on being fair.

"_Life-_" began Marvin, but Zaphod interrupted,

"MARVIN! We don't need to hear your essay on how life isn't fair at this time."

"Why would I bother to write an essay? No-one would read it," said Marvin hopelessly.

"What did you say about this elf, Figwit?" said Trillian loudly.

"As far as I know, he's still stuck on the Death Star. Any chance we could – I don't know – rescue him, or something?"

"All right!" cheered Zaphod, "Old-fashioned Hero-rescue! Can I wear a cape?"

Ford wordlessly handed him a towel.

"Zaphod," said Trillian nervously – as he was now delightedly knotting it around his neck – "I'm guessing that this Death Star is well defended…"

"Yuh?" said Zaphod, not really listening, trying to fasten the towel so that it didn't strangle him.

"VERY well defended," agreed Frodo, "In fact, I grabbed a pamphlet from the Shuttle – they have many mounted gun turrets, a fleet of TIE fighters defending it, not to mention a Great Big Green Laser™. In fact, they claim '_All attempts to destroy the Death Star will result in 100 Rebel Death, or your money back!'_

"Mmm?" said Zaphod – he had now loosened the towel adequately so that he could breathe, but his blood supply was still slightly obstructed.

"You could die," said Trillian simply.

"You WOULD die," said Arthur, even more simply.

"I really don't see where you're going with this," said Zaphod. Before any of them could try to get it even simpler ("ZAPHOD – YOU. WILL. DIE." perhaps) Zaphod finally succeeded in tying without obstructing any vital tubes in his neck, and with a whoop vaulted over the back of the sofa and running madly around the ship with his arms outstretched.

Everyone sat in silence watching him for a long moment – it was a strangely fascinating sight. Finally, Trillian broke the silence.

"Perhaps we could use the ship's Improbability Drive to enter the exact place where he's being held…"

"Except we don't know the exact place he's being held," pointed out Frodo, "And we can't exactly leave this ship parked in the middle of a hallway while we go round looking for him."

"We could use it to deactivate the Death Star's defences, perhaps?" suggested Ford, "To produce a device which emits the exact frequency needed to shut down all lasers and guns and TIE fighters."

"But still, how are we going to get on board to get Figwit?" said Trillian, "I don't know if you've noticed, but we're not the most Rescue-Savvy bunch."

It was at this moment that Zaphod charged past them whooping and yelling "SUPER ZAPHOD!" It was another long moment before anyone could speak again.

"We need professionals," said Trillian simply, "Professionals who are used to doing any kind of job, as long as their paid…"

"And aren't different enough to the plot to be noticed," pointed out Ford.

"We're doomed," moaned Marvin.

"No we're not!" said Arthur optimistically, "There must be lots of Fanverses out there with crews like that."

"Who said I was talking about your mission?" said Marvin.

"What about the Star Trek crew?" suggested Arthur.

"Too clichéd," said Trillian, shaking her head, "The Star Wars Fanverse would detect them a mile off."

"So it's got to be a small Fanverse too," said Frodo, shaking his head, "That narrows it down slightly, doesn't it?"

"None come to mind," said Ford, "Perhaps the computer-"

"Hi there!" said Eddie the computer cheerily. Marvin shuddered.

"Computer?" said Trillian, "Can you run a Fanverse search for a self-sustaining ship, mercenary crew, known for taking any job and getting it done-"

"But still being nice people," cut in Frodo.

"-but still being nice people, not very well-known, er, I think that's it… oh, and those who might be willing to ruin Star Wars… but that's not a necessity-"

"Done," said Eddie immediately.

They blinked. "That was quick," said Trillian, "What's the Fanverse?"

-

"_Firefly!_"

Kaylee looked from the engine as Captain Mal came in. He didn't look happy. But that was nothing new.

"Kaylee, this ship is a _Firefly. _Tell me, what does a firefly do?"

Kaylee shrugged. "Flies around campfires, I guess. Ain't seen one myself."

"And they glow. So our ship is supposed to glow too, Kaylee, but it ain't doing that. So the engine must be broken. Care to tell me why?"

Kaylee sighed. "See this?" she said, waving a threateningly-heaving looking piece of metal at him, "Know what _this _is?"

"Hazarding a guess, some new toy of Jayne's?"

"This is a very important bit of the engine. It broke about a month ago."

"You should've mentioned it."

"I did. Twenty-eight times. And I told you there was a problem with it about once a week for four months before that."

"Tell me louder next time. So why's it a problem now?"

"Because-" Kaylee hefted up an even more threateningly-heavy looking piece of metal, "-_this _just broke too."

"Let me guess," said Mal, "Another very important bit?"

"You got it. Engine can survive without one of these cos one can do both's jobs, just not very well – but without both of them – we ain't glowing."

Mal stared. "Engine doesn't work," supplied Kaylee, "We don't move."

"I got that. Can you fix it?"

"Might be able to, but it'd take a couple of weeks… We really need the replacement parts."

"Which we don't have."

"Never do."

Mal sighed. "Right – you get to trying to fix it, I'll sort something out…"

He turned and headed up the corridor towards the bridge. As he passed through the dining area, he saw River sitting at the table, drawing something.

"_Firefly's_ not glowing," she said.

"I'd noticed," said Mal. He carried on through the ship up to the bridge, where the pilot Wash was, as ever, hard at work and completely focussed on his task.

"You tried to kill me," a triceratops was proclaiming, "but you _failed!"_

"Har har! A mistake I will not make twice!" a tyrannosaurus rex roared back, "Now DIE!"

"Much as I hate to interrupt the thrilling adventures of the dinosaurs…" said Mal loudly – Wash jumped about a mile and model dinosaurs flew everywhere – "-we've got a problem."

"I'm hoping it's something to do with the fact the engine isn't working, cos that seems enough to be getting along with for now," said Wash, setting dinosaurs back in place like nothing had happened, "Let me guess – some incredibly important part has broken?"

"Two, actually."

"Ah. And we don't have replacements?"

"Not so much."

"Ah." Wash paused. "So what are you doing up here?"

"Cos I'm feeling scared and need a hug."

"Ask Zoe. Or Jayne, I'm sure he could be cuddly."

"I need you to send out a signal. Contact anyone nearby offering a trade for those two parts."

"Sure," said Wash, and started pressing various buttons, "But we don't have anything to trade."

"And the longer they don't know that the better." Mal turned to leave, when there was a strange bleeping sound from the controls. He didn't turn back, but said slowly, "Wash, tell me that's a happy beep."

"Err… not exactly sure, Captain," said Wash, frowning and pressing even more buttons, "It's a signal, but I've never seen the frequency before… it seems to be…" He suddenly swore in Chinese. "Mal, I think it's coming over the FandomNet."

Mal did turn round then. "The _FandomNet?_"

"Uh-huh." Wash span round in his chair to face him. "It's coming from another Fanverse."

Mal, for one of the first times in his life, was bewildered. "Why on earth would someone contact a lowly ex-TV show Fanverse like us?..."

"We do have a movie now."

"Yes, but still…" Mal shook himself. "Is it the NERD?"

"No… it's another Fanverse. 'Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy.'"

Mal nodded, and hit the ship's com. "Zoe, come up to the bridge." He released it and stared the blinking message light on the counter. "What could _they_ want?..."

-

_Yes… I am a browncoat. Apologies if you've never seen Firefly or Serenity. If not, at least watch Serenity (out on DVD in England February 23rd, already out in America, you lucky things) because it was my favourite film last year. And no, I haven't been paid to advertise it._

_xPussyWillowKittenx – Whoops. I did indeed mean to say 'ought'. (smacks self)_

_Kelly of the Midnight Dawn – You did! You reviewed! Reviews make happy fuzzies. Everyone should always review. Multiple times. And if anyone gets put on trial, I'll e-mail you for stuff on Law and Order!_

_Ebon Oleander Wenham – You actually make a good point… we haven't seen Boromir for a while. YOU MADE A GOOD POINT, ASHLEY! RELISH IT!_

_BlueDove – Well, it's about time LOTR got back in the fight…_

_SlashyKitty – Perhaps someone should start that school._

_Mousewolf – I'm hoping to introduce Lost soon, along with several other fandoms I've been sitting on for a while… Huzzah, I finally managed to fit Firefly in!_

_Satanira - … hello? Is anyone there now?_

_writeR - … see, now you've said that, I DO want to try it. Just to see if a spork can defeat a cleaver._

_Red Tigress – Thanks! I don't have Sci-fi Channel though… (pouts) … so I'm limited to what shows I get on terrestrial television and in DVD boxsets. That is, Firefly. (happy grin)_

_freakanature – There does seem to be something wrong about that. It's like Wolfgang Peterson making Troy when he thought the gods were 'silly and unnecessary to the plot'. Voldemort was just weird in the film – hovering his hand over-dramatically over Harry's face: "I'm not touching you! I'M NOT TOUCHING YOU! … 'kay, now I am. BWAHAHAHA!"_

_Rahil – Quirky… you know, I think you've found the word which sums up all my fanfiction. Except the Terrible Matrix Unintentional Mary-Sue Which We Do Not Speak Of. Even though I did just speak of it. Whoops._

_Kamineko – Anakin is in the Watching Dimensions, so I can't put that on here… but he ought to be coming back at some point. And I haven't seen much of Star Trek, but I have several friends who are fans so I might get things from them to write about. As for Dune… never seen it. Sorry._


	16. Chapter 16

_Here I am again. Even I'm losing track of who's where, and it's not going to get any easier…_

**Chapter 16**

On the Heart of Gold, they waited for the crew of the _Firefly _to respond. "Are you sure they're up to it?" said Frodo uncertainly, "I've never heard of them…"

"That's why they're perfect," insisted Trillian, "They're not a big fandom, so they won't be recognized on the Death Star. But they're still sci-fi, so they won't cause a massive anomaly."

"Can they be trusted though?"

"If you pay them."

The screen suddenly flickered into life, revealing Mal, and behind him, Zoe, and behind them, wandering around absent-mindedly, River.

"Is this the, uh, _Heart of Gold_?" asked Mal uncertainly. Arthur could hardly blame him – his crew looked like a thoroughly ordinary bunch, while his own crew included one man still wearing a towel superhero cloak, a hobbit and a manically depressed robot.

"Yes," replied Trillian, "And is this the _Serenity_? Are you Captain Malcolm Reynolds?"

"Was last time I checked."

"Isn't the _Heart of Gold _a whorehouse?" came a voice from offscreen.

"Jayne, you're talking again," said Mal irritably.

"Yes, where Mal met that prostitute friend of Inara's and they did the sex," said another voice offscreen.

"WASH. Don't make me take your dinosaurs."

They heard the man called Wash say something in Chinese, which may have been a suggestion as to where he'd like to put his dinosaurs. Mal ignored him and said, "Now why is a big Fanverse like you contacting a lowlife TV show like us?"

"That's a bit harsh," they heard Simon say, "I prefer 'reputationally challenged'."

"We've got a job for you," said Trillian.

The entire crew suddenly fell silent, and their eyes brightened. "Job?" said Mal, "As in, paying job?"

"Of course."

"Naked beach, here we come!" said Wash gleefully.

"Is it illegal?" asked Mal.

"Well, I'm guessing some people won't be too happy about it, but technically they started it, so…"

"Fair enough. What is it?"

Trillian told him. When she finished, the crew of _Serenity_ were silent once more. They waited.

"Let me get this straight," said Mal finally, "You want us to waltz onto the Death Star, which has lots of big guns and tractor beams and other such unpleasantries – navigate the corridors, which are packed with guards with more guns - and rescue an elf, who you don't know the location of?"

"That's about it," said Trillian.

"Oh," said Mal.

There was another silence.

"It had better be a BIG naked beach," said Wash finally.

Kaylee appeared behind Mal. "Cap'n, it means we could get those parts we need…"

"And some more medical supplies," said Simon, "Since that bank job, we're running a bit short."

"I didn't ask for _everyone _to get shot," said Mal defensively.

"No, it just happens a lot anyway."

"You won't meet any trouble on the way in," cut in Trillian, "Our ship can deactivate their outer defences – it's just the getting out that'll be the problem…"

"And not getting dead."

"Well, that too."

Mal looked thoughtful. "We'll have to think about it," he said finally, and shut off the communication channel.

"I'm not sure about this," said Zoe immediately, "That Death Star doesn't sound very friendly."

"Yeah, the word 'Death' is a bit of a heads-up," said Wash.

"I've heard about Star Wars…" said Simon slowly.

"_Everyone's _heard about Star Wars," snapped Mal, "I think kids are born with the inherited knowledge that Darth Vader is Luke's father."

"No," said Simon, "I learnt about it at school – Ancient Culture of Earth-That-Was. It was a building block of their sci-fi and film, and the birthplace of proper special effects…"

"Fun as this little lesson from Doctor Genius is, shouldn't we be getting guns or getting the hell out of here?" interrupted Jayne.

"My point is," said Simon loudly, "that Star Wars properly began the idea of a movie plot formula – properly developed a structure for movie Fanverses. You see, before Star Wars, book Fanverses were predominant because their stories were set down on paper, irrefutable and strengthened by the many people reading them, and film Fanverses were unstable... But when movies started getting the main audience, people seeing them repeatedly and getting as involved in the worlds as if they were more than creations on celluloid – well, they took over-"

Jayne yawned loudly.

"Oh right. Point. My point IS that it was a trailblazer, and because of that, there were mistakes – plot holes. Hundreds of plot holes feed into the Star Wars universe at various points. And we might be able to navigate them to our advantage."

There was a silence.

"That's a fair idea," said Mal, "But do you know what any of these plot holes ARE?"

"No, I-"

"C-3PO clearly spent a large amount of time on the Lars' farm because Cliegg bought Shmi and then freed her and married her before she was kidnapped by the Tusken Raiders which happened a month before Anakin even turned up and no other droids were seen suggesting they had minimal staff so C-3PO would have to carry out a large amount of tasks and would have made a sufficient impression for him to remember C-3PO when he saw him again only twenty-one years later yet Owen makes no sign of remembering whatsoever," said River in an uninterested voice, gazing absently into the distance, "Though admittedly there are other protocol droids which look similar as we see with TC-14 in 'The Phantom Menace', though that droid had different vocal patterns so from that evidence we can form an ambiguous hypothesis that each droid has a distinct voice, though of course TC-14 could have been mass produced while C-3PO was made by hand by Anakin, so again the mass produced droids may have all had the same voice, which would explain why TC-14's voice is marginally more computerized and less emotional compared to the musical tones and marginally effeminate voice of C-3PO…"

The crew stared at her, once more in silence. _Serenity _hadn't been so quiet for so long a period of time since all the crew left in the shuttles, leaving Mal with a gun wound. But even then the computer had kept helpfully pointing out that the life support system was broken. This time, even the computer seemed astonished.

"…and then of course there's the fact that Leia remembers Padme more than Luke despite the fact that Luke was born first, although Obi-Wan was holding beyond the range of a normal infant's line of sight, so not even he should be able to have the distinct memory of her being beautiful or sad, let alone Leia who only saw her for a few seconds…"

"Wash, contact the brunette. Tell her we'll do it," said Mal, "And you, doc-" he said, turning to Simon, "Try to teach your genius sister the concept of brief, informative bullet points."

-

The Death Star was drifting through space, unknowing of its imminent doom being plotted several Fanverses away. Although, even if the Emperor did know it was about to be attacked by a ship called _Serenity_ – a tiny ship with no Jedi on board and no weapons to speak of – somehow I don't think he would be overly perturbed.

He should have been.

For one thing, the ship _Serenity _had a score to settle. For another, his plans in other Fanverses weren't going exactly to plan. And for yet another, just to make his day complete, Figwit wasn't planning on sitting around in his cell forever waiting for someone to rescue him.

After Sauron captured so many of the elves to turn them into orcs, elves were taught how to escape from things from a young age. And they were training to escape from Barad-dur. The Death Star Detention Level was nothing in comparison.

So shortly after he'd been placed there by guards, just long enough for them to get complacent, Figwit yawned, broke the lock, opened the door and strolled out past the guards, waving and smiling pleasantly. Before they could say anything, he stepped into the lift and closed the doors behind him.

A few minutes later, it occurred to the guards that perhaps that wasn't supposed to happen. But the pleasant smile of an elf can be a very distracting thing.

Figwit hummed absently as the lift shot downwards. He wasn't exactly sure where he was going, but this was a big space station – he was certain he could find somewhere to do some suitable damage.

The lift stopped, and he stepped out. Some stormtroopers headed towards him, but another pleasant smile baffled them long enough for him to dart away around a corner.

He strolled through the corridors, slightly disappointed by the lack of resistance. If this were Barad-dur, he'd have been fighting off thousands of orcs with his little finger by now. The Star Wars Fanverse just didn't have the same standards.

He passed by a door which said 'ARMOURY'. A few moments later he stopped, backtracked, and opened the door.

His eyes widened. "Oooh," he said.

A few minutes later, he was strolling through the corridors again, this time adorned with blasters of increasing size and menace. He found he attracted even less strange looks this way, because most people were avoiding eye contact.

Still, this place was pretty huge. Shouldn't there be a map somewhere? "Excuse me," he said, grabbing the arm of the nearest officer, "I'm supposed to be reporting for guard duty, where should I go?"

"What guard duty?" asked the officer.

"Erm. The most important kind. You know, guarding a place or, um, person of great importance."

The officer looked stonily at him. Figwit rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know, I'm terrible at lying. Let me try again." He pulled out one of the large blasters, so huge and angry-looking that it seemed impossible it could actually fire anything. "My friend here has guard duty. Where should it go?"

The colour swiftly left the officer's face and ran for cover. "Erm," said the officer, keeping an admirable tone of calm, "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know! Somewhere important!"

"Emperor's throne room is just down the corridor and then turn right and left and then third door on your left," said the officer very quickly, not taking his eyes off the gun, "Can I go now?"

"Hmm? Oh, sure. Thank you for your assistance." Figwit set off again, and allowed a smile to spread across his face at the sound of fleeing feet behind him. Blasters were fun.

-

In the Forbidden Forest, the students were STILL stuck. And they're going to be stuck there for a while. Just so you know. And yeah, they're getting a bit bored. A plot development'll reach them at some point, but for now, it seems like a good place to keep them.

-

One can always trust a Dark Lord, unless one is a Dark Lord oneself. Because, in the immortal words of Captain Jack Sparrow, 'You can always trust a dishonest man to be dishonest' – and you can always trust a Dark Lord to be evil.

A Dark Lord can't always trust another to be evil. Sometimes, they can be _nice_. And that's where it gets tricky. Because if they are constantly evil, but sometimes turn round and betray you by being nice for once – well, how complicated is that?

Sauron was soon to learn that you really, really shouldn't trust another Dark Lord when you're pursuing total global domination yourself.

In all fairness, so was Darth Vader.

Luke Skywalker was piloting his X-Wing through a plot hole from Middle-earth to Hogwarts (caused by MidnightWing Varalissiel Potter, Harry's half-sister from Lily's affair with Severus Snape, flying into Middle-earth on her winged unicorn to find her true wuv Frodo) when he got a phone call from Darth Vader.

"Hi Dad! How's it going?"

"It is going all right, son. Are you flying right now?"

"Yes, just entering the Harry Potter Fanverse."

"Yes, I'd heard. You're not tired, are you? You shouldn't fly tired."

"No, dad, I'm fine."

"Good. Anyway, once you're done there, I need you to try to find a plot hole to Skull Island."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you when you get there." He paused. "Why are you going to the Harry Potter Fanverse?"

"Leia and Han made a deal with the Potions Master. I'm just going to kidnap their protagonist. Thought it would be useful anyway."

"Hmm, yes. The Emperor has been complaining of his plot-usurping. You realize that he was also abandoned with his aunt and uncle by a sage old wizard after the death of his mother?"

"WHAT."

"Yes, I know."

"NO WAY."

"Now, now, Luke…. Jedi don't get angry." Luke could hear the smile in his father's voice and tried to calm himself.

"For the last time, dad, I am NOT becoming a Sith."

"But it would make things so much more convenient. We could shuttle pool-"

"Nope. Bye." Luke ended the conversation before Darth Vader could continue.

It was a minute or two later before something dawned on Vader. Luke was going after Harry. "Oh," he said slowly, "SITH." He tried to call, but it was too late – the magic was interfering with the X-Wing's radio. He couldn't get through.

There was only one thing he could do. He reached for his unicorn journal.

It wasn't there.

-

_Red Tigress – FIREFLY AND SERENITY ARE FANSPIFFERTASTIC. Thank you!_

_Kelly of the Midnight Dawn – I'm still trying to see whether a trial can be worked in at some point, so watch this space. _

_SlashyKitty – Hurrah for happy heaps! I'm actually surprised so many other people have seen Firefly…_

_BlueDove – WHEE SERENITY. It came out in England yesterday, and as soon as the HMV near my school opened I dashed up there and bought it. The rest of school seemed to last far longer than usual while I was waiting to get home and watch it…_

_Rahil – (taking notes) Munchkin… with… lightsaber. Damn, got to work THAT in somewhere._

_writeR – Hmm, I hadn't actually thought of that, but it could be interesting… veeerry interesting…_

_Mousewolf – You have an evil Gungan in your brain? Actually, I think everyone has an evil Gungan in their brain…_

_xPussyWillowKittenx – Perhaps soon._

_Lauren – Me neither, and I'm WRITING it. I'll have to choose at some point…_

_freakanature – I'm saying nothing. You'll just have to wait._


	17. Chapter 17 BONUS!

_I'm taking a brief break from writing this to try to sort out all the individual plot threads. Also, I'm in the middle of coursework and suchlike. To tide you over, here's a mini chapterlet to answer that eternal question – why the hell haven't I included Star Trek in this story? Here's what's keeping them occupied…_

**Chapter 17 – Where is the Enterprise?**

Meanwhile, in the deep depths of Space the Final Frontier™, the Starship Enterprise was zooming away from its latest battle with Klingons.

"Well done, everyone!" said Captain Kirk heartily from his captain's chair, "Another job well done. Only two anonymous red-clad crewmembers lost!"

"Their names were John and Steve," said another anonymous red-clad crewmember, "They had lives."

Captain Kirk waved a hand dismissively. "Eh. Anyway, I'm sure we beat those Klingons once and for all this time! They'll never come after US again!"

None of the crew responded. A tumbleweed blew past.

"Where did that come from?" said Lieutenant Uhura confusedly. Everyone shrugged.

"Captain," said Spock, "We're getting a transmission from the FandomNet that there is trouble amongst some of the Fanverses. Apparently they're fighting to get rid of the competition in the upcoming NERD review. Everyone is warned not to join in or interfere, but there is an added footnote 'Of course, you probably all will now anyway, we really don't know why we bother with these things. Just bear in mind that is VERY VERY DANGEROUS'."

"Brilliant!" said Captain Kirk, clapping his hands together, "Sounds like just the thing we should get involved in!"

"Really, captain? 'DANGEROUS' is in bold font. And underlined three times."

"Hmm," said Captain Kirk thoughtfully, "Three times, you say?"

"Indeed, captain."

"How many red-clad crewmembers do we have left?"

"Our stocks are getting low. We'll need to get some more at some point."

"Well, this could be a perfect opportunity." He pressed the intercom linking the bridge to the engine room. "Bridge to engine room, set engines for Fanverse-transfer!"

There was no reply but static. "Engine room?" said Captain Kirk hesitantly, "Mr Scott?"

BZZZZZT, replied the static apologetically. Captain Kirk looked around for the red-clad crewmember who had insinuated they had personalities earlier. "You – Red Man – go check it out."

"We're making a union, you know," said the anonymous red-clad crewmember.

"GO."

The anonymous red-clad crewmember vanished through the door. "Honestly," said Captain Kirk, shaking his head, "Before long, they'll be asking for a dental plan-"

He was cut off by a panicked shout from the hallway. "OH MY GOD! THERE ARE SNAKES ON THE ENTERPRISE!"

-

_Apologies if this chapter isn't as good as the others. I don't know much about Star Trek, and this mini-chapterlet stemmed from a conversation with one of my friends regarding upcoming film 'Snakes on a Plane' (most genius title EVER) and possible sequels…They may also appear later in the fic._

_Red Tigress – The Death Star always struck me as inorganized. I mean, it's the size of a small moon – I bet the areas where Darth Vader stomps around are well organized, but on the other side I expect they sit around playing dominoes. _

_Mousewolf – Thanks very much! And yes, I'm working on fitting in Artemis Fowl – I'm just trying to find an appropriate moment…_

_Kelly of the Midnight Dawn – Luke is maybe the most OOC character. Possibly because there is no place for whiners in this fic._

_SlashyKitty – I'm surprised so many people watch Firefly – no-one did at my school till I started lending my Serenity DVD to everyone._

_Lady ot Rings – Yes, the updates on both places are getting a bit skew-whiff… however you actually spell that…_

_freakanature – Well, you're already waiting. A reasonable start._

_anonymous – I haven't read Good Omens yet, I've only just finished Small Gods… but I'll be fitting in more Discworld when I can._

_xPussyWillowKittenx - … I hadn't actually imagined what his smile would be like… oh my… (shakes self out of daze) More Fanverses will be coming into play soon enough – just once I've sorted out what's actually happening…_


	18. Chapter 18

_I managed to find time to write after all! I also wrote out a list of what was going on – you know there are about 19 plot threads? Yeesh. So here's some more._

**Chapter 18**

The reason for Darth Vader's panic over his son going to Hogwarts was about two feet high, clad in a cloth robe and carrying a little walking stick, and spoke in bizarre syntax. Oh, and green.

The reason also happened to be the most powerful Jedi of his time.

The reason also happened to be extremely pissed off.

The auditions in the Star Wars Prequel Fanverse for Anakin's evil twin were well underway. Mace Windu still couldn't for the life of him understand why these two new Jedi, Aragolas and Legorn, seemed to be trying so actively to sabotage the things which made Star Wars so brilliant.

The 'Anakin's Evil Twin is Darth Vader' idea seemed as though it could, with a lot of work, actually not cause too much damage – the amount of spin-off fanfics it would produce would strengthen any weaknesses caused by the drop in interest from all those fangirls out there who thought Anakin looked hot when his eyes glowed. But Anakin's evil twin would need to be completely and utterly bad-ass in order to attract that kind of attention.

The people Aragolas and Legorn were interviewing were not completely and utterly bad-ass.

"So – Quentin, is it?" asked Aragolas pleasantly, scanning the information in front of him and looking up at the man in front of him. Mace Windu looked at Quentin as well, and his stomach sank. He looked so plain, so unassuming, that Mace suspected he had been born without personality, or at least had it surgically removed shortly after birth. The dull expression on his face actually had a soporific effect, and Mace Windu found himself nodding as soon as he spoke.

"Yes," said Quentin in a dull monotone, "Named after my father. He was named after his father. And he was named after his father. And he was named after his father. And he-"

"Was named after his father?" yawned Mace Windu.

"No, actually," droned Quentin, "His name was Smethley."

Mace Windu didn't even know the names Quentin and Smethley existed in the Star Wars Prequel Fanverse.

"Traditional family name, is it?" said Aragolas brightly.

"No," said Quentin, "My mother just found the name agreeable."

"Lovely. So, Quentin, what do you do in your spare time?"

Quentin stared blankly into space for several long moments. Mace Windu started to worry that he had died standing up without them noticing, but then realized he was just thinking. "I find watching clouds going past pleasant," he said eventually, "And looking at walls which have just been painted. I also find the history of stamp collecting is a truly fascinating subject, why, just the other day…"

As he listened to Quentin droning on about something he'd read about stamps, his voice never changing pitch or speed but continuing in the dreary monotone, Mace Windu could feel the will to live slowly leaving him.

His voice also seemed to be affecting Aragolas and Legorn, Mace Windu vaguely noticed before almost all conscious thought left him and went to sleep somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, depressed into slumber by the sheer fact that someone could exist with such a lacklustre view on life, I can see the same fear in their eyes…

Aragolas and Legorn could indeed feel the affects of his voice, but were able to resist the soporific effect. Aragorn had gone up against Sauron, for Eru's sake, anyone else should be barely a trivial concern – though Quentin was proving to be quite a challenge in his own right. At least with Sauron he fought because he wanted himself and his friends to be free – with Quentin, all will to do anything was vanquished, and he was beginning to see the attraction of cutting off his own ears just so that he wouldn't have to listen any more.

It was even worse for Legolas, with his heightened elvish hearing; normally he could pick out every single nuance of emotion in someone's speech and understand how they were feeling better than they could themselves. With Quentin, however, there _were_ no nuances of emotion. His voice was a void, a hollow vacuum sucking in any possible interest one might have in whatever Quentin was talking about – which Legolas would never know, because as soon as he started talking he realized the danger he was in and sealed off his ears, choosing to listen to the Lay of Beren and Luthien in his head instead. But just Quentin's expressionless face was enough to chill his blood.

Looking around at the rest of the Council, all of whom were asleep or rocking back and forth in their chairs, covering their ears and humming, it dawned on Aragorn and Legolas that Quentin could be extremely valuable.

"Thank you, Quentin," said Aragorn loudly and brightly, interrupting Quentin's description of how two identical stamps were actually somewhat different, but not too much, just a little to be of interest (Quentin's definition of interesting suggested that he had not seen a dictionary for too long), "I don't think you're quite what we're looking for, but-" Now that the voice was gone, the other Council members were beginning to wake up, so he continued hurriedly, "-I'm sure my colleague Legorn here would like to escort you to a speeder."

"I get nauseous in moving vehicles," said Quentin.

"I'm sure you do," muttered Mace Windu, slapping himself in the face to wake him up.

"A lot of things make me nauseous, actually," remarked Quentin, "I first noticed this when I was eleven years old, three months and eight days old… the day was unseasonably warm, I remember, and I was going out to buy some dusters and lavatory cleaner, because there was a three for two offer on at the local supermarket…"

Aragolas blinked and shook his head to clear it. "Yes. Well. Still, Legorn will show you the way out. It's been…" He somehow couldn't bring himself to say 'a pleasure', so he finished, "… enlightening."

Legorn leapt to his feet and hurriedly steered him out of the room, shooting an evil look at Aragolas as they passed him. Aragolas understood why – already relief was rushing into him that he might never have to hear that voice again…

Too soon. Just as Quentin reached the door, he said, "Goodbye."

He didn't just lack emotion in his voice. He had the opposite of emotion – anti-emotion, which, like anti-matter, cancelled out any available emotion, but unlike anti-matter, didn't release a large amount of energy in the process – instead, it seemed to drain it from the soul of everyone within earshot. A fearful shiver rippled around the Council Chamber, but swiftly evaporated as soon as Legorn shoved Quentin out of the door and slammed it shut behind them.

Everyone sighed in relief and liberation.

"NOT HIM," said Mace Windu forcefully.

Aragolas looked at him innocently. "Goodness, no. I wouldn't dream of it. No, we've still got lots of applicants – the next one is Cuthbert Blethwick, ooh, apparently he's interested in moths…"

Legorn continued to propel Quentin down the stairs, muttering prayers to Eru, Elbereth, and even Morgoth if he happened to be listening and could stop him suffering the terrible effects of Quentin's soul-draining voice. He decided not to give him the chance to speak, and said, "Quentin, we haven't been able to offer you this job, but we have another lined up which I think you'd be perfect for."

"I thought-" began Quentin, and Legolas's soul screamed in horror and started to crumple in on itself. Legolas screwed up his face and interrupted loudly,

"Yes, I know that wasn't what was advertised, but seriously, I think this other job would be perfect for you. You see, there's a growing market for audiobooks-"

Before Legolas could continue or, thankfully, Quentin could ask anything else, That Reason why Darth Vader was so fearful of his son going to Hogwarts marched in through the front doors of the Jedi Temple and announced in a loud, carrying voice,

"Jedi, need I, for an assault on Hogwarts! Dumbledore apparently wiser than me is! Learn not to mess with me, he will!"

-

Sam, Merry and Pippin thought they were starting to get the hang of this sailing lark. After a lot of experimentation with the sails, they figured out how to make the ship go faster and slower, and taking turns at the wheel meant they soon quickly all learnt how to steer. They also learnt a lot about cannons after a minor accident involving Pippin trying to smoke a pipe below decks.

But all this aimless sailing around was starting to bore them. Which was why when they found a weird compass in one of the rooms below decks, also filled with rum, they eagerly examined it.

"It doesn't point north," Merry had observed.

"Where does it point, then?" Sam had wondered. Pippin was too busy 'examining' the rum to add his own comment.

They decided, in true hobbit fashion, that there was only one way to find out.

This same philosophy was applied when they arrived at Isla de Muerta and wondered what was in that dark cave. It was used again when they found a strange chest in aforementioned dark cave and wondered what was inside it. And when they opened the chest and found it filled with glittering Aztec gold, they decided that their philosophy was excellent, and they would certainly recommend it to a friend.

"How much do you think is in here?" said Merry, eyes wide.

Pippin looked thoughtful and counted on his fingers. "A lot," he concluded.

Even the steadfast Sam was enchanted. "Who do you think it belongs to?"

"Whoever it is, I doubt they'd notice if it was gone," said Merry, "They've got enough treasure here…"

"Our need is greater than theirs," agreed Pippin, "Need for mushrooms, anyway."

Still Sam hesitated. As shiny as the gold was, the skulls were a little off-putting. Besides, he assumed anything Pippin said was a good idea to be a bad idea on principle.

Suddenly a clear, regal yet young voice rang out behind them.

"Hobbits, step away from the chest. My sister has an arrow trained on one of you, and I will not say which, but I do not hesitate to inform you that if you move, she will shoot, and she will not miss."

-

_Red Tigress – I can't fit much more Star Trek in here, unfortunately – what you saw in the last chapter was pretty much the extent of my knowledge. But I might be able to mention them again later on… possibly investigating just where they get this seemingly endless supply of cannon fodder…_

_BlueDove – Cute, but inescapably doomed. Like the bunnies in Watership Down._

_SlashyKitty – That's the thing with Firefly – it doesn't have many fans, but its few are so devoted they take it upon themselves to spread the message…_

_Kelly of the midnight dawn – He did? Whoa, if he'd been on the original Enterprise he'd have been mourning a LOT._

_Mousewolf – Henchman's Union? That sounds intriguing…_

_writerR – Only a little? Dang, I'm losing my touch. Thanks for reviewing, by the way, you reminded me I needed to update._


	19. Chapter 19

_Extremely sorry I haven't updated for AGES – I've had exams, but they're finished now. I tried to post this earlier, but was being annoying and wouldn't let me for some reason… Anyone who's just joining us, enjoy, we've still got quite a way to go, and please review! It galvanises the plot bunnies into action…_

**Chapter 19**

Figwit waltzed happily through the corridors of the Death Star. Normally this would be metaphor for walking along with utmost confidence, near giddiness, but Figwit was actually waltzing – actually dancing down the corridor in three time. Elves are quite peculiar, especially when laden down with many big guns.

He reached a lift emblazoned with the words 'EMPEROR'S SPECIAL LIFT', and pressed the Call button, whistling happily to himself. He smiled even at the people who were avoiding his eye. He was in a good mood.

The lift doors opened and he stepped in. As it shot upwards, he hummed quietly and checked the many guns adorning his torso. He wondered whether he'd overdone it slightly, and taken more guns than he could actually use and would just add to his weight and air resistance. But, thinking about it, he couldn't think of any to leave behind. They were all so nice. He shrugged. He'd deal with it.

He felt the lift slowing down, quickly finished humming and chose two guns to start with. How was he going to handle this? Quietly confident? Scarily aggressive? Coldly efficient? Wisecracking all the way?

Nah.

The lift stopped. He stepped out.

The Emperor didn't see him – he was too busy talking on a radio. "When you have reached the Hogwarts Gate, just wait. Our contact has promised us that it will be open."

"We've reached the gates already, my Lord."

"Then why don't you proceed?"

"We're just waiting to, my Lord. There's a bit of a queue."

Figwit heard the Emperor blink. Oh yes, elvish hearing is just that good. "What do you mean, a queue?"

"I mean, it looks like we're not the only army intending to attack Hogwarts tonight. Yoda's here, for one, with some Jedi."

"Hmph," snorted the Emperor, "He never could come up with original ideas."

"And the rumour is, several other Fanverses are coming too-"

Suddenly, another Holophone rang, and the Emperor hurriedly flicked to that one. Figwit was vaguely perplexed to see someone who looked a lot like Aragorn appear.

"What is it?" snapped the Emperor.

"I think our cover may be blown," said 'Aragorn', "I think Elrond's guessed I'm not really Aragorn."

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, partly because of the way he looks at us sometimes… but mainly because he just strode in and said, 'You're not Aragorn, are you?'"

"What? How could he have seen through your illustrious disguise?"

"I have no idea! I had a nametag and everything!"

Figwit heard the Emperor exhale forcefully and slowly. "How did you handle it?"

"I said I needed the bathroom."

"And then what?"

"… Called you from the bathroom."

"Ah." The Emperor paused. "Any plans on what to do next?"

"Er. Add another nametag? With the name in capital letters," he added eagerly, "And underlined."

Before the Emperor could try to persuade 'Aragorn' that this was not the best defence, yet another Holophone rang. Figwit sighed in irritation. As much as he wanted to annoy the Emperor, he was a polite elf, and wouldn't dream of doing anything until he'd finished his phone calls.

"What now?" snapped the Emperor at the stormtrooper who appeared on the latest Holophone.

"My Lord, there's a ship approaching fast – _Firefly _class."

"What?" said the Emperor sharply, "Where did it come from?"

"From one of the plot holes – probably the Luke-seemed-to-be-on-Dagobah-for-ages-but-Han-and-Leia-hardly-spent-any-time-flying-around-and-on-Bespin one."

The Emperor groaned. "We've got to patch that up at some point. Get those PR stormtroopers to think of an excuse. Meanwhile, prepare defences, activate the tractor beam-"

"That's the problem, my Lord. The defences have been deactivated. There's some sort of radio signal blocking them."

"What? What are the odds of someone working out the exact frequency needed to do that?"

"Well, it's not impossible-"

"Don't tell me," sighed the Emperor, "Just very, very improbable."

Figwit had had enough. His politeness had been overridden sufficiently by his determination that if the Emperor was going to have a nervous breakdown, as seemed inevitable, he wanted to be the one to push him over the edge. He considered announcing his presence by arming a blaster loudly - but then realized that was a cliché, and elves were far above resorting to clichés.

He then considered just going over and introducing himself. But even that had almost become a cliché. He frowned. What _wasn't_ a cliché any more?

It dawned on him the Emperor was probably under a lot of stress right now. Sympathy was a trait encouraged in elves, so he fished out some Chocolate Buttons he'd removed from the mini-bar.

He wandered over just as the Emperor was saying tiredly, "All right – just – try to stop them once they board-"

"Chocolate button?" asked Figwit, proffering the bag.

The Emperor took some without really noticing, and continued, "-most likely they're from another Fanverse so do some research, find out who they could be-"

"I said you could have one, not three," said Figwit in wounded tones.

The Emperor stopped. He very slowly looked down at the few Buttons still in his hand, as though suddenly realizing they were there. He then slowly rotated in his chair to see Figwit.

"If you'd taken two, I would understand," continued Figwit, "One is just pathetic on its own, and normally they are stuck together, so even though I said you could have _one_, I would understand you taking two. But three? That's just greedy."

The Emperor continued to stare at the elf standing in front of him, bedecked in scary blasters.

"Hang a tick," said Figwit suddenly, "I never specified one. I apologize for impugning your honour. Though I specifically said 'chocolate button', that is, in the singular, so you could have deduced it on your own. But since the quantity could have been open for interpretation due to my failure to specify a number, perhaps I was hasty in accusing you of presumptuous gluttony."

The Emperor stared a little while longer. Then he blinked. Then he stared some more.

Confident that any possible clichés had successfully been averted, Figwit beamed at the Emperor, and said, "Hi. I'm Figwit. I was previously your prisoner."

To his credit, the Emperor recovered the power of speech within seventeen seconds. "And now?"

"Well…" Figwit looked down at all the blasters adorning his torso, and the several strapped to his limbs, and then at the Chocolate Buttons. "I was wondering whether we could discuss re-evaluating my status."

The Emperor had never been to the seaside; but at that moment he could appreciate, more clearly than anyone in the universe, the full meaning of the turning of the tide.

-

Dumbledore was extremely worried.

He had plenty of reasons to be, and many of those reasons were visible through his window. Through the gates were pouring ranks of Jedi and Stormtroopers, and deep in the forest were the tell-tale rustlings of leaves of others approaching. In the distance, an X-Wing fighter was approaching. But these were not the only dangers.

Dumbledore was both a very friendly and a very powerful man. These combinations meant he had a lot of connections in a lot of Fanverses. He had been forewarned of the attack on Hogwarts by the Star Wars Fanverse, and also a possible attack from the Lord of the Rings Fanverse, by these contacts, and also of other attacks from other rival Fanverses.

Strange that all these attacks should be on the same evening, he thought. Some might put it down to coincidence. More cynical people might put it down to an interesting plot development. Dumbledore was not cynical, nor did he believe in coincidence. He did, however, believe in conspiracies.

But he was not even worrying about conspiracies at that particular time. He was worrying about something he was viewing in his Pensieve, which was throwing silver light onto his wrinkled face. He had already watched it several times since he had obtained the memory, and it got no less disturbing.

But now, with enemy forces approaching on all sides, it dawned on him he might not get the chance to warn anyone – and the memory itself was quite fragile. Especially with Stormtroopers around. Perhaps the memory would be better off elsewhere, where someone else could watch it and realize the danger…

He took out the memory from the Pensieve and put it into a little bottle. He fastened an explanatory note around it, and after a moment's thought, put it in one of his own shoes. He muttered _"Portus,"_ and a moment later, it vanished. At least that was safe now, he thought. At least people will be warned…

Ignorance is bliss.

-

There is a room filled with hourglasses. Each hourglass is labelled with a name. The room is filled with the soft roar of sand pouring away from the top bulb to the other. Some are more full than others; some have only a few grains left. Some only ever had a few grains to begin with.

A black-cloaked figure stalks through the aisles of hourglasses. He has a strange sense of accomplishment. Before he had only been in charge of one Fanverse – an interesting Fanverse, to be sure, with plenty of cats, but just the one.

But now he had been hired – hired! Someone had taken notice of his accomplishments and requested its services. And he had the feeling that soon its services would be needed.

He reaches some of the new hourglasses. Most are still very full, suggesting a long full life ahead of the people they refer to, but what he reads in the nodes he worked out earlier disagrees.

It was as he had suspected - the fabric of the Plotlines was becoming distorted, tangled as the threads intercrossed and interfered with each other. Yet the individual Plotlines were still all struggling to continue on their given path, straining to tug free from knots and punch through obstructions.

But the fabric of the Plotlines was weak. Easily torn. And he knows what that would create.

But that isn't his problem. All that concerns him in this is the Duty.

He allows himself a sigh, closes the nodes and tucks them into an invisible pocket inside his cowl. He picks up his scythe, examines how the air glows an ethereal blue around the blade, and grins. Not that you could tell.

SHOWTIME, says Death.

_Freakanature – They should be fine… couldn't be sure though. As you may have guessed from that last little bit, I am planning on killing some characters._

_Kelly of the Midnight Dawn – Merry Shipper Christmas to you too! Only two months late…_

_Red Tigress – You'll find out soon enough… whoa, my evil side is coming through really strong today…_

_Mousewolf – I can think of several people who would use hobbits as target practice. But then, I know strange people._

_writeR - …. How big?_

_Tiger of Robare – Believe me, it's on its way. I'm a huge fan too._

_Kamineko – Well, one could say that they started it…_


End file.
